


Be Here Now

by TenToo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dad!Kane, F/M, Minor Callie Cartwig/Lee, Minor Clarke Griffin/Wells Jaha, Minor Octavia Blake/Lincoln, POV Abby, Portland Oregon, Vera's Alive!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:41:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6904480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenToo/pseuds/TenToo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MODERN AU - PORTLAND, OR: Dr. Abby Griffin has a favorite patient and her name is Vera Kane. With failing health, Vera's son is forced to bring her to her dialysis appointments 3 times a week. One day, he doesn't show to pick her up. Abby takes Vera home and, upon her request, goes to check on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Patient Kane

Dr. Griffin knew she shouldn’t have a favorite patient, but she saw hers so regularly, it was impossible not to get attached to some more than others. Vera Kane was like a shining beacon of hope in the dreary nephrology ward. She was in stage 4 renal failure and had started dialysis a month ago. The woman had an energy about her, she brightened up every room she walked into, lifting the spirits of her fellow patients as they underwent their procedures. She was always waiting for Abby with a bright smile on her face despite the progression of her disease that made her weaker.

Today, however, Abby was waiting for her. She sat in the room, flicking through another patient’s chart when the door opened and a tall man walked in followed by a frazzled Vera. The doctor set the chart down and rose to her feet. The man gave her a once-over before turning his attention back to Vera.

“My dear, I’m so sorry,” she said, taking Abby’s hands in hers. “Traffic was a nightmare and Marcus was late.”

The man rolled his eyes and said, “I need to get back to work. I’ll pick you up later.”

Abby watched him go, catching a flash of dark metal at his hip under his leather jacket as he turned. The door shut with a snap behind him and she asked, looking at her patient, “Your son?” Vera nodded. “Are you not driving anymore, Vera?”

“My feet are so swollen, I can barely walk, my dear,” Vera said, sitting down next to the machine. “Marcus was kind enough to agree to bring me on his lunch break.”

“Forgive me, but he doesn’t look too pleased with the arrangement,” Abby said as she hooked up the first needle in Vera’s AV fistula. Truthfully, this was a nurse’s job, but Abby liked Vera so much, she did it herself. It allowed her time to chat with the woman.

When she looked at Vera, there was a small smile on her face.

“Marcus has always been difficult,” Vera said simply as if that settled the matter. Abby smiled as she inserted the second needle.

It went like that for a while, Abby waited in the room and Vera was always late. She didn’t mind, it allowed her time to catch up on paperwork, and the patient always apologized. She learned that her son was a detective and he normally wouldn’t leave the station for lunch so it was hard to tear himself away from work to bring his mother three times a week to the hospital. Especially when it was a 37 minute round trip.

“It’s wearing on him,” Vera commented one day, 5 weeks after the arrangement had begun. Marcus had left abruptly, barely glancing at the doctor before slipping out the door after seeing his mother safely into her chair. “He would never say a thing, but this is hard for him.”

“His captain is okay with him taking an hour from work so often?” Abby asked as she taped the second needle in place. She moved to the dialysis machine and began to set it.

“Oh it’s not that, dear,” Vera said with a smile. Abby glanced at her as she turned the machine on. “It’s the whole disease. I think he’s taking it harder than I ever did.”

“You were diagnosed a year ago,” the doctor said quietly.

Vera nodded. “He’s stubborn. He still thinks there’s hope for me.”

“There is hope for you, Vera,” Abby said seriously.

She reached out and patted Abby’s arm softly, “That’s the spirit, dear.”

 

 

Abby spent the rest of the day seeing to other patients and left later than usual, around 6:30p.m. She knew Clarke had student council after school, then tennis practice, so she wasn’t too worried about her — they would be getting home around the same time.

She was walking through the lobby when she spotted Vera Kane sitting in one of the chairs, silently reading a book. She glanced at her watch, making sure she had the time correct — Vera’s dialysis finished over an hour ago. Abby turned and headed for her. Vera looked up at her approach and smiled, closing the Ram Dass book. Honestly, Abby expected her to be reading nothing else.

“Hello, dear,” Vera said kindly as she tucked her book away in her oversized purse.

“What are you still doing here, Vera?” Abby asked, sitting next to her on the couch.

“It appears my son has forgotten about his old mother,” she replied quietly.

“He’s never done this before,” Abby replied, frowning.

“No, this is very unlike him,” Vera whispered, wringing her hands as she stared at the door.

“Have you called him?”

The woman smiled. “Of course, dear. He hasn’t answered. I’m worried that something might have happened at work.”

Abby nodded. “Well, how about we get you home, and try to call him some more?”

Vera stared at the door for a few more seconds before she nodded. Abby stood and offered her hand. Vera grasped it and Abby pulled her to a standing position with difficulty. The woman was getting weaker, she had noticed it weeks ago when Marcus was first forced to assist his mother into the room.

Abby kept her hand on Vera’s elbow as she led her outside. She told her to wait on the bench as she pulled up her car. It was new, a red Ford Fusion Hybrid, and made her feel like she was truly leaving Los Angeles behind. Clarke had picked it out, claiming that it had to be eco-friendly because they were moving to Portland. Abby had just laughed but bought the car anyway, letting her daughter have her old Nissan.

She parked the car and got out, hurrying to Vera’s side as she ambled to her feet. Abby grasped her elbow again, steadying her as she assisted her to the passenger seat. Once settled, she walked around the car and sat down.

“Where am I headed?” Abby asked, shutting the door.

“Sellwood,” Vera said as she pulled out an ancient flip phone, dialing her son again. Sellwood was nearly 20 minutes away, she understood why this was wearing on the detective.

Vera kept dialing and didn’t get an answer; Abby worried that she was going to twist her hands off, wringing them so much with her concern. She pulled into the driveway of the small, two-story cottage on SE Bidwell. Abby helped Vera to the door and as she unlocked it, Vera said, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but would you mind checking on Marcus for me?”

Abby frowned, glad she was partially hidden in shadow by the setting sun. Any other patient, she would have said, ‘no,’ and gone home — this wasn’t in her job description. Neither was driving patients home though and she had already done that. Reluctantly, Abby asked, “Where does he live?”

“NE Garfield, it’s a yellow house,” she said as she pushed open the door. “Wait a second, I have the address somewhere.”

Abby stood on the porch, chewing her lip. She really didn’t want to do this, but she couldn’t stand the thought of Vera worrying over her son. She pulled her phone out of her purse and sent a quick text to Clarke telling her she was going to be late getting home.

“Thank you so much, Abby,” Vera said upon returning and handing her the address. She grasped Abby’s hands in her own and looked into her eyes. Vera had an unnerving way of calming someone, making them feel like an idea was their own. Abby had seen it many times when her dialysis appointments coincided with another patient’s and they shared the room. She always put them at ease, make them feel like everything was going to be okay even if their outlook seemed grim.

Abby found herself smiling at her. She said, “I can’t have my favorite patient missing her appointments.”

Luck would have it, Marcus Kane’s house was only a mile and a half from her own so she wasn’t going too far out of her way. She pulled against the curb and looked at the three cars in the driveway. _Someone’s definitely home_.

She cut the engine and climbed out of the car, walking up the concrete path. It was a cute Craftsman, not what she expected from the brash man who dropped his mother off like it was a chore.

The porch light was already on and she saw a shadow pass by the window to the right of the door, light from a tv reflecting in the pane. She climbed the steps and knocked on the oak door.

There was no answer. She glanced at the window and saw that the tv was still flickering in the pane, the shadow was still there. She turned back to the door and knocked again, louder this time.

A young man in his early twenties, with messy, dark hair and a constellation of freckles on his cheeks, opened the door after nearly a minute and Abby glanced at the street number above the door before meeting the man’s dark eyes again. His eyebrow raised lazily as he asked, “Who the hell are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated! Welcome to another long ride in the Kabby Trash Bin, my fellow Trash Babies. This is my first Modern AU ever and I'm super excited for it. Angst, hurt/comfort, and smut aplenty ahead! Welcome to another installation of Kabby Hell!
> 
> ♥ Lauren


	2. Fractured

“Abby…” She said uncertainly, taken aback by his impudent behavior. “Is this Marcus Kane’s home?”

The man studied her for a few moments before he crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s not home.”

“He didn’t pick his mother up from her dialysis appointment, she’s worried,” she replied, trying to peer passed him into the house.

“How do you know Vera?” He asked, making himself as big as possible in the doorway to block her view.

“I’m her doctor,” she said with a sigh. She really didn’t care for the boy’s theatrics, she wanted to fulfill her promise and go home to her daughter. “Listen, is Marcus here or not?”

“Bellamy! Let her in!”

The young man rolled his eyes and stepped aside. Abby narrowed her eyes as she looked him up and down, stepping into the house. He nodded toward the right and she walked passed the small front room where he had clearly been watching TV to the living room where Marcus Kane lay on the sofa with a teenage girl at his side, a German Shepard at his feet. The dog perked up when she came into view but settled back down when he saw that his owner wasn’t making a fuss over her intrusion.

The girl scoffed, “Who the hell is this?”

“Vera’s doctor,” Marcus said quietly, trying to slide himself further up the couch with one arm. Bellamy hurried forward to help but Marcus held up his hand and just shook his head. The young man stood next to the fireplace as Marcus’ eyes found Abby’s, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

Abby motioned to his very swollen shoulder that strained against his shirt and said, “You must be in a great amount of pain, Detective Kane, to forget to pick your mother up from her appointment.”

His head fell against the back of the couch and his hand raked through his already messy hair. He muttered, “She sent you here to check on me, is that it?”

“Yes,” Abby said simply, stepping closer to him. The dark haired teenager glared at her and slid closer to Marcus. Abby ignored her as she said, “It’s a good thing she did because that doesn’t look too good.”

“The big baby won’t let us take him to the hospital,” Bellamy said with a smirk.

Marcus shot him a glare and barked, “Go upstairs, Bell. Take Octavia.”

“Dad—”

“Go, O,” Marcus said sharply, nudging her leg with his.

Octavia glared at Abby as she passed — as if this all was her fault — and stalked toward the stairs with her brother, saying just loud enough for them to hear, “He just wants to be alone with the pretty doctor.”

Marcus didn’t react as he looked at Abby. His brows were knitted together, a frown on his face as he said, “You’ve checked on me, you can go.”

Her eyes narrowed at him as she took another few steps toward him, side-stepping the coffee table. “I’d much rather leave and go home to my daughter, but I can’t ignore that shoulder, Detective.” She gave him a hard look as she added, “So are you going to unbutton your shirt or am I?”

His eyes flared up in anger for a moment before he averted them and reached his uninjured arm up, working at the top button of his gray button-down. He said, “I don’t see what the big fuss is, it’s just dislocated.”

Abby walked over and sat next to him on the couch. She ignored the way he stiffened and how his fingers stilled in the third button as her hand reached out, her fingers finding the pulse on his injured arm so he could keep working. She took in the sweat beading on his forehead — that coupled with the racing pulse told her it was something more than just a dislocation.

She pulled her hand away and asked, “What happened?”

“I was tackled by a suspect,” he muttered after a moment, a blush creeping up the back of his neck.

“And that embarrasses you?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He was just a kid and he got the better of me; so yeah, it bothers me.” He said harshly as he undid the last button. Abby nodded but chose not to comment as she slid closer to him. She met his eyes as she slid his shirt over his right shoulder, noticing the way his eyelids lowered, trying to mask the blind panic behind them. He cleared his throat and looked away as she slowly bent his elbow and pulled his arm out of the shirt.

She hadn’t expected this level of vulnerability from him. His chest rose and fell with calculated breaths as her hands rose to his shoulder. She scanned the tanned skin for any open wounds that might have been inflicted in the scuffle. Seeing none, she began to prod his shoulder and he winced — a good sign.

“Must you do that?”

“I’m testing for sensation,” she said, continuing to move her fingers over his skin.

“Oh there’s sensation,” he muttered. Her eyes met his and he held her gaze for a moment before he looked away. “Get on with it.”

She grabbed his elbow and rose it up; he grunted in pain and glared at her. The dog’s head lifted again and Abby saw teeth this time. Kane nudged the dog with his leg as he spat, “What the hell, Griffin?”

“Testing movement, _Kane_ ,” she replied, rotating his shoulder to the sound of another grunt.

_“Fuck_ ,” he gasped. She gently lowered his arm and slipped his shirt completely off, his eyes widening in surprise. But she simply pulled it on his right arm, knowing it would be easier to get back on that way. She held out the left sleeve for him and waited, meeting his eyes again. His brows furrowed as his slid his left arm into the shirt.

She scooted away from him and asked, “Do you have a sling?”

“Yeah, let me just fish it out of my extensive medical closet,” he scoffed.

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“There’s a closet at the top of the stairs, you’ll find some towels there,” he said quietly. “If you can’t find it, I’m sure the kids are waiting at the topmost step.”

Her eyebrow rose and he clarified, “They’ll want to know what happened down here.”

“What do they think would have happened?” She asked, rising from the couch.

He shrugged his left shoulder, but the small smirk on his face gave him away. Her mouth opened slightly and she wanted to swat at him. Instead, she turned and walked back toward the front door and the stairs. She climbed them and found the two dark haired kids at the top of the stairs.

Octavia nudged Bellamy and said, “I was right, just a medical exam. Pay up.”

Her brother grumbled as he rose to his feet to allow Abby to pass. She went to the closet across from the stairs and grabbed a towel. She turned in time to see Bellamy hand the girl a ten dollar bill. She shook her head to herself as she walked back down the stairs, knowing that she never should have gotten involved, that she should have told Vera she had somewhere to be.

Marcus’ shirt was re-buttoned and his eyes followed her as she walked back to him. She sat next to him silently and began to fashion the sling. It wasn’t until he said something that she realized she must have had a scowl on her face. “Did the kids get to you?”

“You need an x-ray,” Abby said, securing his arm in the makeshift sling. She leaned away from him and said, “I’m taking you to the hospital whether you like it or not.”

He frowned but rose to his feet. He walked toward the door, the dog jumping up and bounding after him. Abby walked slowly behind, surprised there was no need to fight him on the issue. He whispered, “Stay, Kaiser.”

The dog stopped abruptly and Abby almost ran into him. She adjusted her course, giving him a wide berth before she continued after Marcus. He grabbed a set of house keys from the hook near the door before turning the handle and opening the door. He held it and swept his arm toward the opening. “After you, Doctor.”

Abby hid her smile as she walked out of the home. She waited in her car as he spoke with Bellamy who had come down the stairs at the sound of the door opening. The young man seemed concerned but Marcus gripped his shoulder before turning and walking toward her. He opened the door and slid into the car.

He didn’t speak until she was turning off of his street, even then, his voice was quiet and he stared out the windshield. “I’m sorry about Bellamy and Octavia.”

Abby smiled as she replied, “I didn’t know you had kids, Detective.”

“I think you can call me Marcus now. You’ve seen me with my shirt off,” he said, glancing at her with a smirk on his face. Abby fought a smile as he continued, “Bellamy and Octavia aren’t actually mine. I took them in after I arrested Bellamy.”

She looked at him, her eyes widening. “What?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up as he turned to look fully at her. “I shouldn’t have said, ‘arrested,’ I was _supposed_ to arrest him. He was fifteen and had been stealing from a string of stores. I knew the last name, I had arrested his mother several times before I was a detective for soliciting, among other things. I knew why he was doing it, he had a little sister to care for.”

She looked him over, fighting the wide smile that tugged at her lips. She hadn’t expected it from him, but she shouldn’t be surprised — this was the Marcus his mother talked endlessly about during her appointments. She asked, “How did you end up with them then?”

“I fostered them at first, but then their mother died and they had no one else.” He said quietly, turning his attention back to the windshield as Abby turned into the faculty parking lot of the hospital. “Bellamy’s technically Octavia’s guardian since I never legally adopted them.”

“They both call you ‘dad,’” she commented as she pulled into her parking space and cut the engine.

He half-shrugged but said no more on the subject. Instead, he muttered, “Let’s get this over with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated! Let me know what you think of my first Modern AU!
> 
> -Lauren


	3. Too Damn Stubborn

Abby pulled some strings and got Marcus moved to the front of the list for an x-ray. She would owe the technician a favor down the line, but it was worth it if it got this man to stop complaining. She could tell the pain was starting to get to him and she understood, but it was almost a relief when the door shut behind him and he was someone else’s problem for a moment.

She leaned against the wall and pulled out her cell phone. She pressed Clarke’s name and raised the phone to her ear but after the seventh ring, she hung up. Abby sighed, she knew exactly where her daughter was. She selected another name and pressed the green phone icon before raising the phone to her ear again.

 _“Abby, this is a pleasant surprise,”_ he answered. She had no need to call the mayor of Portland, she normally just had him over for dinner with his son at Clarke’s insistence or talked with him over the hedge as they both headed out early in the mornings.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Thelonious, but I was wondering if Clarke was at your house,” Abby said, quietly. Doctors and nurses were passing and the man’s name was very distinct, she didn’t want anyone knowing that she knew the mayor.

He was silent for a moment before he said, _“I’m not home, but I’m sure Clarke is fine. Would you like me to call Wells?”_

She chewed on her lip before answering, “If you wouldn’t mind.”

She could hear his smile as he replied, _“Anything to ease a worried mother’s mind. I’ll call you back, Abby.”_

“Thank you, Thelonious,” she said before slipping the phone back into her purse after ending the call. She rested her head against the wall and exhaled a deep breath.

Clarke still didn’t know the city as well as she should. Sure, she knew the parks, trails, and the surrounding woods, but Portland itself? It was practically a mystery to her. What really worried Abby was that Clarke always answered her phone. She sighed and pulled her phone out again, knowing it could be a while before Thelonious got back to her — he was a busy man after all. She clicked on Vera’s name and waited, with her phone to her ear, until she heard the kind voice on the other end.

_“Abby, dear, I was beginning to worry that you had gone missing too.”_

“I’m sorry, Vera,” Abby said, staring at the door the woman’s son was behind. “Marcus was hurt at work. We’re at the hospital now.”

Abby knew she should have worded it differently when she heard the panic in Vera’s voice. _“What happened? Is he going to be okay?”_

“He was involved in an altercation; he fractured his shoulder, but he’ll be fine, I promise.” She assured her. The door opened across the hall and Marcus walked out, letting his arm hang limply at his side. He met her eyes and she smiled at him quickly before she told his mother, “He just came out of x-ray, I’ll keep you updated.”

 _“Thank you, dear,”_ Vera said.

Abby put her phone back in her purse as Marcus asked, “My mom?”

She nodded and he leaned against the wall on the other side of the hall, putting all of his weight on his left shoulder. His eyes took her in as he said, “The radiologist says you owe him a date.”

Abby flushed and whispered, “He didn’t.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, he didn’t. But he made it clear that you owe him a favor and he’s very happy about that. I’m certain he would settle for a date though.”

“He’s not my type,” she said as she started down the hallway. She heard his footsteps on the linoleum floor after a few seconds. She led him to an exam room and found her intern already waiting. She motioned for Marcus, who held up at the door, to sit on the exam table. “Okay, Marcus, we’re going to—”

The phone was buzzing in her purse and she pulled it out, looking at Thelonious Jaha’s name on the screen. She frowned and looked at Marcus apologetically before she answered.

“I’m sorry, Thelonious, could you hold on for a second?” She asked into the phone, her eyes on her intern.

 _“Of course,”_ he said quietly. She lowered the phone and told Jackson, “Give him a full workup, okay?”

The intern nodded and Abby started toward the door but paused. Marcus’ eyes had been on her as she spoke and she found it almost unnerving, she would have if his eyes weren’t so kind and concerned at the moment.

“Why’s the mayor calling you?” He asked, an eyebrow raising.

“He’s my neighbor,” she said, waving off the issue. She looked at Jackson and said, “Get started.”

He nodded and went toward the cabinet, pulling out a few syringes. Abby watched Marcus’ face drain of color and understood why he hadn’t wanted to go to the hospital. _The detective is afraid of needles._

 _“Who was that?”_ Thelonious asked when she raised the phone back to her ear upon stepping out into the hallway and shutting the door.

“My patient’s son.”

 _“Are you taking home lost puppies, Abby?”_ He asked, chuckling.

She rolled her eyes to herself. “She was worried about him, I checked on him, he was injured. It’s my _duty_ as a doctor to help him.”

 _“You go above and beyond to ensure your patients’ happiness, Doctor Griffin,”_ he commented. _“As for Clarke, she’s at my house. Wells said she left her phone at home.”_

Abby didn’t believe that for a second. “If you get home before I do, tell her we need to talk.”

 _“Is there a problem, Abby?”_ He asked, concern lacing every word he spoke.

“That’s between Clarke and I, Thelonious,” she said.

 _“Okay, pardon my intrusion.”_ She could almost hear him raising his hands in defense — the man was so predictable. _“Listen, Abby, they’re fine, okay? They’re just working on homework.”_

Abby shook her head, glad he couldn’t see her. “Okay, thank you, Thelonious.”

 _“You’re welcome, Abby,”_ he replied. _“We’re still on for dinner tomorrow night?”_

“Of course,” she said. “I’ll see you then.”

She hung up and slid the phone back into her purse. She leaned against the wall and released a breath, wondering why her daughter felt the need to ignore her. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Wells Jaha, it was the fact that he was a teenage boy and her daughter was a teenage girl. She remembered herself at that age and didn’t trust them being alone.

She slowly walked toward the pharmacy, intent on getting the drugs Marcus would need filled while she waited for Jackson to finish. She waited in the short line, dropped off his prescriptions, waited some more. She finally had her hands on the medicine half an hour later and turned to head back to the examination room.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Nyko was leaning against the pillar when she turned with the bag of medication in her hands. “That for you?”

“A patient,” she replied, leading the way back down the hallway.

“It wouldn’t happen to be for this Kane fellow, would it?” He asked, holding out a chart for her. Abby snatched it out of his hands, hearing him chuckle at her eagerness. “Overly-invested again, Abby?”

“Shut up, Nyko,” Abby muttered as she perused the information. She glanced at him and met a smirk.

“Wallace is fantasizing about the favor he could call in,” Nyko commented as they neared Marcus’ room.

“Is he?” Abby asked, meeting his eyes. He nodded and muttered, “Cage sucks, don’t do anything for him.”

Abby fought a smile as he walked back to radiology. She turned toward the door and opened it, stepping inside the examination room. As she closed the door behind her, she asked, “Jackson, have you finished?”

Marcus sat on the table, looking much paler than he had when she left. His left hand gripped the edge of the table, like he was ready to push himself off and flee at any moment. Abby looked at her intern and asked, “What the hell did you do to him?”

Jackson’s eyes were filled with panic as he replied, “The normal tests. That was right, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but the poor man looks like he’s about to faint,” Abby said, walking toward Marcus. She set the bag of medication next to him on the table before reaching up and putting the back of her hand to his forehead, meeting a blazing warmth.

“I’m fine,” Marcus whispered, leaning into her touch.

“You’ve said that before, I’m sorry if I don’t take your word for it,” Abby replied, placing a hand on his good shoulder to steady him. She turned to her intern and said, “Take the samples to the lab then get back to your shift, Jackson. Apologize to Dr. Tsing for me.”

Jackson nodded, gathered the samples, and left in a hurry.

“I really am fine, Abby,” Marcus muttered as Abby grabbed her stethoscope from her purse. She put it in her ears and placed the end over his heart, listening. “I just don’t like needles. Or hospitals.”

“Humor me,” she replied, offering him a kind smile. He let her examine him, but he was right, there was nothing out of the ordinary going on.

“Can I go yet?” He asked, looking like he was going to push himself off the table again.

“We have so much to discuss, Marcus,” she said slowly, letting the words sink in. She was gathering that he was the type of man who didn’t do anything he didn’t want to. This must have been agony for him.

He groaned but stayed put.

“You got lucky,” Abby commented as she opened his chart and examined the notes again. She met Marcus’ expectant gaze. “It’s just a humeral neck fracture. No need for surgery, we’ll let gravity do all of the work. You’ll wear a sling for about a month, but your rehab doesn’t end when it comes off.”

He sighed and she could feel his eyes on her as she went to the cabinet and got the collar and cuff sling. She walked back to him as she continued her explanation, “You’re going to need to do some exercises before the sling comes off so you don’t lose mobility. I have a packet for that so I won’t bore you right now.”

He tried to fight the smile that pulled at his lips but it came through anyway. He murmured, “I’m sure I’ll be plenty bored soon enough.”

“You did this just to get out of driving Vera to her appointments, didn’t you?” She asked with a smile as she stood in front of his knees. She unsecured the collar part of the sling and reached up to fasten it around his neck.

“I can’t drive?” He asked, his eyes widening. She shook her head. “How is she going to get to her appointments?”

Abby shrugged and looked him in the eye. “We’ll figure something out.”

She was met with a peculiar expression. He said, “You don’t owe us anything, Abby.”

She took ahold of his wrist and raised it toward the dangling end of the sling. “I know that. But I can’t have Vera missing her appointments.”

He studied her as she secured his wrist in the sling. After a few moments, he asked, “Why do you care so much?”

“I care about all of my patients,” Abby said, adjusting the collar of the sling so it sat more comfortably on his neck. “But there’s something special about Vera. She’s so…positive. I intend to keep her around. And if I can persuade her to get a transplant, she’ll be around for a long time.”

A slow smile crawled across his face. “You’ve been trying to convince her?”

“Of course. What do you think I’ve been doing for the past few months?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

He stared at her openly for nearly a minute before he whispered, “She won’t let me give her a kidney. She thinks she can pull through on her own; she puts too much stock in faith.”

Abby frowned and looked at the floor. “Do you even know if you’re a match, Marcus?”

She knew he had never been tested for it — she had seen his medical history — so of course he didn’t know for sure his kidney could even save his mother. She met his eyes and saw a fever there that had nothing to do with the injured shoulder. He whispered, “I have to be, don’t I? I’m her child.”

She shook her head. “That’s not how it works — you’re your father’s child too.” The way his eyes darkened, she knew she had hit a nerve. She frowned and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said gruffly as he slid off the examination table. He grabbed the bag of medication and asked, “What is this?”

“I got you the good stuff,” Abby said, glad for the subject change. She grabbed the exercise packet from the counter and handed it to him before she led him out of the room. She explained, “Now, no weight on that shoulder for several weeks. No work for at least two, have your captain call me if he has any questions. You should sleep sitting up to help it heal. It’s going to hurt like hell for the first two weeks, so get full use of that prescription. When you do go back to work, no field work for several months, okay?”

He nodded with a frown on his face.

There was a lot of paperwork they had neglected upon arrival and they spent nearly half an hour in billing, taking care of everything, before they exited the hospital. They walked in silence to her car and Abby opened the passenger door for him. He smiled and said, “Awfully chivalrous of you, Doctor.”

She smirked but didn’t comment. She shut the door once he had slid in awkwardly and went to the driver side. It was a short, quiet drive to his house. It wasn’t until she was parked on the street in front of it that he spoke. “Thank you, Abby.”

She smiled and said, “You’re welcome. My number’s at the bottom of your packet, let me know if you can’t find a way of getting Vera to her appointments.”

“I will,” he nodded. He opened the door and slid out of the car.

“Marcus?” She called as he started to close the door. He pulled it open all the way again and leaned down into the car, meeting her eyes. “We can have you tested during Vera’s next dialysis appointment. To see if you’re a match.”

His eyes searched her face before nodding. He replied, “She won’t do it until she’s on the verge of death, and then it’ll be too late, right?”

“There won’t be much of a chance, no.”

He shook his head, frowning. “Too damn stubborn, that woman.”

“Kind of like her son,” Abby said, staring hard at him. He let out a breathy laugh before he straightened up and stepped onto the curb again.

“I’ll see you Monday, Abby. Goodnight,” he said before shutting the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated! I, myself, am thoroughly enjoying writing this Modern AU, I hope you're enjoying reading it!
> 
> -Lauren


	4. Miscommunication

The smell of peanut butter greeted her when she walked into the kitchen the following morning. Clarke stood at the island in front of the stove still in her pajamas. She poured the mix into the pan, a stack of pancakes on a plate next to her. She looked up when Abby made her way toward the island.

“What’s this for?” Abby asked, sitting across from her. Clarke slid her a mug of steaming tea that smelled exactly like their lavender bush in the front yard.

“I wanted to hear about your night. Where were you, young lady?” Clarke asked, pointing the spatula at her accusingly.

“I was helping a patient find her son,” Abby replied dryly, picking up the mug.

“Like a kid? That was awfully nice of you, but isn’t that a matter for the police?” Clarke asked, flipping the pancake. Abby smiled into her mug before setting it down.

“Do you remember me telling you about Vera Kane?” Clarke nodded. “It was her son.”

Clarke smirked and flipped the pancake onto the stack before pouring the last of the mix into the pan. “There’s no way Vera has a young child.”

Abby smiled and replied, “No, full-grown adult. He was injured, so as good an excuse as any for not picking her up from her appointment.”

“So that’s where you were last night? With some guy?” Clarke asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Clarke…” Abby warned, shooting her a glare.

“It’s okay, I hung out with Raven,” Clarke said with a shrug. When Abby raised her eyebrow, she added, “After I came home from the Jahas. Happy?”

“Not at all,” Abby said, turning the handle of the mug in front of her.

Clarke sighed and leaned against the counter behind her as she crossed her arms. “Why don’t you like me going over there?”

“You know damn well why.”

Clarke smirked. “It’s the mayor, right? You don’t want me being around all of that power, you think it’ll go to my head.” Abby stared at her expressionless. Clarke sighed and asked, “Why don’t you like Wells, Mom?”

“You know why,” Abby said quietly.

Clarke stared at the white countertop as she stepped forward to flip the pancake. She whispered, “Wells isn’t Finn.”

Abby’s blood ran cold at the mention of the boy’s name. She had wiped too many tears to count from her daughter’s cheeks in the wake of the hurt that boy had caused Clarke. She didn’t want to admit that he was the reason she didn’t want her getting close to someone else again. Finn Collins broke Clarke’s heart, Abby didn’t want to see that again.

“You’re right,” she said, meeting Clarke’s gaze. “He isn’t. I just worry about you.”

“I know. But I can take care of myself,” Clarke said, handing her a plate. “Now eat your pancakes and tell me more about this Kane guy.”

Abby rolled her eyes as she accepted the plate from Clarke. “There’s nothing to tell.”

Clarke’s eyebrow raised as she sat next to Abby at the island. “No? You spent the whole evening with the guy. Is he cute?”

“Clarke, I—”

The door to the basement opened and Raven Reyes walked into the kitchen a second later. She looked at the stack of pancakes and said, “I forgot to go shopping again.”

Abby pursed her lips, fighting a smile. “Come in, Raven.”

“Thanks, Doc,” she said, smiling as she walked over.

Abby had grown quite fond of the young mechanic renting the apartment in the basement. She had moved in two months after they did and Clarke had really taken to the girl. Abby found herself constantly having to tell Raven to ‘go home’ so Clarke could go to bed at a reasonable time on a school night, but the two girls normally managed to persuade her to stay up with them and watch some terrible movie.

“So, what are we talking about?” Raven asked, sitting on the stool next to Abby’s with over half of the remaining pancakes on her plate. Clarke peered around her mother and said, “Mom had a date last night.”

Raven smirked and looked Abby up and down before replying, “Oh, who with?”

“It wasn’t a date. I took care of his broken shoulder,” Abby said with a sigh.

“ _Kinky_ , a little doctor-patient roleplay. Is he hot?” Raven asked, elbowing Abby lightly in the ribs. She rolled her eyes. The two girls looked at each other and Raven muttered, “That’s a yes.”

Abby started cutting up her pancakes with a bit more force than she should have. Once the two of them got started, there was no stopping them Abby had learned. She hated when she was caught in the middle of it.

“Are you going to see him again?” Raven asked through a mouthful of pancake. Abby looked at her slowly, her mouth opening just the slightest at her nerve.

“Monday,” she answered. The mechanic’s eyebrows rose and Abby added dryly, “For an _appointment._ ”

“Oh? Is he in kidney failure too?” Clarke asked, spearing a piece of pancake on her fork.

“He’s being tested to see if he’s a match for his mother.”

“And how’d you persuade him to do that?” Raven asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“I’m not doing this,” Abby said simply. She quickly scarfed down her breakfast and rose from the stool.

“Aw, c’mon, Abby!” Raven called as she walked out of the room. “We were just having fun!”

 

* * *

 

She lived for these Saturday walks through Forest Park. They cleared her mind, reminded her why she left Los Angeles. Today’s route was along the Lower Macleay Trail and Abby always enjoyed this part of the park. She felt it was so very _Portland_ ; so green, so surreal, so unique.

Callie Cartwig walked at her side, talking about her date that night with Alex Lee, one of the security guards at the hospital. She had been dating him for a year and a half now and Abby really liked Alex. Apparently he was making a big deal about tonight and she wondered if he was going to propose.

Abby met Callie when she started at Mount Weather Regional Hospital six months ago. She was head of public relations and Chief Dante Wallace wanted to release a statement advertising the hospital’s first adult nephrologist to increase patient influx in that area. He had opened a new department just for Abby, whom he had recruited personally. Callie met with Abby on her first day, early on a Monday morning, and they discussed the details of the announcement: what parts of Abby’s personal life she wanted the public to know, what would remain private, and the details of her professional career. It was clear from that initial meeting that the two would be good friends.

“I hear you have a date of your own coming up,” Callie said after exhausting the topic of all the ways Alex could propose that night. Abby looked at her, eyes widening. She hadn’t thought Callie would suspect her of being anything but professional with the detective too. “Is it true you owe Cage a favor?”

Abby released a breath quietly. “Yeah, it was for a…friend. A patient’s son actually.”

“Oh? And what’s so special about this mystery guy that you’re willing to be indebted to Cage Wallace over?” Callie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s my favorite patient’s son,” she said with a shrug.

Callie studied her for a moment before asking, “And what did this mystery man do that warranted rescuing by the Great Doctor Griffin?”

Abby rolled her eyes. “Stop calling him the ‘mystery man,’ he’s nowhere near mysterious enough to deserve that title.”

Callie smiled. “What’s his name then?”

“Marcus Kane,” she replied. “He’s a juvenile detective and was injured by some kid who was trying to flee. He drives his mom to her appointments now that her feet have swollen to the point of pain.”

“Is Vera that far gone?” Callie asked, frowning.

“You know Vera?”

“Who doesn’t know Vera? She’s too damn nice for her own good,” she replied with a fond smile.

Abby smiled too and said, “She is.”

“What happened to Marcus then?” Callie prodded when it was clear Abby wanted to drop the subject.

She hesitated before saying, “He broke his proximal humerus—”

“You know I don’t speak _Doctor_ , Abby,” Callie said, frowning.

“His shoulder,” she clarified.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, _ouch_. He’s so stubborn he didn’t want me looking at the injury,” Abby said, her voice rising slightly. She could feel the redness creeping up her neck and wished it would just go away. She didn’t understand why talking about him was bringing about such a rise from her. “I had to treat him like a misbehaving child to get him to come with me to the hospital, it was absolutely ridiculous. And don’t get me started on his kids who aren’t really his kids. So disrespectful…”

“You know, if it doesn’t work out with this Kane fellow, Alex has a few friends.” Callie said with a smile. “Carl’s really nice. He has two kids, but it’s not like that would be a deal breaker for you.”

“What makes you think I’m interested in Marcus? Or dating in general?” Abby asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t get this worked up about something unless you actually care,” Callie replied, a small smile on her face.

Abby frowned, staring at the trail in front of them. Callie let them walk in silence for the rest of the way, allowing Abby time alone with her thoughts. She spent it convincing herself that she only cared about Marcus Kane’s well-being because of Vera, that seeing him shirtless hadn’t done something to her, that she wasn’t looking forward to Vera’s appointment on Monday for reasons other than seeing her favorite patient.

They parted ways at their cars and Abby told Callie to call her if anything big happened on her date. Callie smiled and said that Abby had to keep her updated on the Marcus situation. She just rolled her eyes and got into her car.

Abby pulled her phone out of the center console and found that she had a missed call from an unknown number. Reluctantly, she pressed the number and raised the phone to her ear.

_“Abby?”_

Her breath hitched and she felt a flutter in her chest. She forced herself to wipe the small smile off of her face as she replied, “Marcus?”

_“Yeah, I probably should have left a voicemail or something. Sorry.”_

“It’s fine,” she replied. “What’s going on?”

She heard him clear his throat before he answered, _“I wanted to let you know that Octavia has agreed to drive my mom to her appointments, but they’ll have to be later in the day, after school lets out.”_

Her brain kicked into Math Mode and she knew that most schools in the area let out at 3:15, but Octavia likely wouldn’t leave right away. It would take a while to pick up Marcus then Vera on Monday. But Marcus wouldn’t always be coming with Vera to her appointments. It had taken her nearly 20 minutes to get to Marcus’ from Vera’s the previous night, so how long—

_“Abby? You still there?”_

“Yeah, sorry,” she said, frowning to herself. She quickly finished the calculations in her head and replied, “How does 4:15 on Monday sound? We can discuss Vera’s other appointments then.”

 _“That sounds great,”_ he said quietly. She smiled to herself, picturing him pleading with his unruly daughter to get her to drive his mother. She wondered what he had to promise her, she figured there was no way Octavia would willingly take time away from whatever she did in her free time to drive her sort-of grandmother to the hospital. _“Thanks, Abby.”_

She could sense he was about to let her go, so she asked, “How’s the shoulder?”

He let out a breathy laugh and replied, _“Hurts like hell, but I’m managing.”_

“Are you high right now?” She asked, letting the smile take over her face.

He laughed a little louder. _“As an officer of the law, I can neither confirm nor deny that allegation.”_

Abby laughed. “It’s a prescription. You’re allowed to be high, Marcus.”

 _“Still—”_ he began but Abby heard a shout from behind him and it suddenly sounded like he was at a party. Music played in the background, sounding like it was muffled by a door, and she could hear distant conversations. She could tell he had lowered the phone and he was talking with someone else, a woman. After nearly a minute, he asked, _“You still there?”_

“Yeah,” she said quickly.

He let out a quiet laugh and said, _“I have to get going, my partner’s about to set my house on fire. I’ll see you Monday, Abby.”_

“I’ll see you then,” Abby replied. The line disconnected a second later from his end after she heard him yell, _“Indra, get away from the grill!”_ She lowered the phone and stared at it for a moment before setting it in the cup holder, blinking away her daze. She was smiling — unknown to her — as she backed the car out of the parking spot and headed home.

 

* * *

 

Abby sat in the living room hours later, dinner in the oven. The Jahas would be over any minute. She turned another page of her book as footsteps thundered down the stairs. She glanced up and found Clarke walking passed her in a skirt.

“Where are you going?” Abby asked, sitting up in the chair as she lowered her book.

“Wells is taking me to a movie,” Clarke said, continuing toward the door.

Abby’s brows knitted together. “Aren’t we having dinner with them?”

Clarke shrugged, grabbing her purse from the hook on the wall. “I guess the mayor wants one-on-one time with you. I’ll be back later.”

“Clarke, wait,” she called but the door was already shutting behind her. Abby stared at the door, her eyes wide. Her mind was spiraling in a blind panic at the thought that Thelonious might assume this was a date.

She didn’t have long to plan for how she would handle the situation as a knock sounded on the door less than a minute later. She stared at the wood, brows knitting together. She looked down at her outfit — a t-shirt and jeans — and knew that there was no way he could think she thought it was a date.

She opened the door and found Thelonious standing there wearing jeans and a t-shirt too. She nearly sighed in relief. He was, however, holding a bottle of wine. She raised her eyebrow at him. He smiled and said, “The kids are out, I thought we should celebrate that.”

“That’s a nice thought,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. She watched him head toward the kitchen, frowning. She shut the door and followed after him, finding that he had made himself very much at home. One of the drawers was open and he had removed the corkscrew from it, already opening the bottle.

Abby retrieved the glasses while he pulled the cork free from the bottle and she watched him pour the alcohol, desperately needing a drink. He handed her the glass and she forced herself to only take a small sip. She walked toward the oven and checked on the tenderloin.

“Are you okay, Abby?” Thelonious asked. She glanced over her shoulder at him and found him surveying her over his glass.

“I’m fine, why?” She asked, pulling the pot out of the oven.

“You seem…stiff,” he commented as she turned back to him. She grabbed for her glass and looked at him. He smiled and said, “You know this isn’t a date, right? I can see how you could get that impression.”

Abby stared at him for a moment before she let out a quiet laugh and took a drink. She should have known Thelonious would never just spring something like that on her. “I’ll admit, I was a little worried. We’ve never discussed anything like that, we’re friends, Thelonious.”

He nodded. “And that’s all I want, Abby.”

She couldn't repress the smile or the look of absolute relief on her face.

“It was the wine that alarmed you, didn’t it?” He asked, grabbing two plates from the cabinet. “Perhaps beer would have been more appropriate.”

She shook her head thoughtfully. “I think any alcohol automatically raises questions. Besides, Clarke ran out of here a minute before you arrived without any explanation.”

“Really? Wells told me about it this morning,” he said, shrugging.

“Your kid is more considerate.”

The rest of the night passed smoothly. Thelonious talked about the drama at City Hall and Councilwoman Diana Sydney’s attempt to take over power. He asked about Dante Wallace, someone he knew very well due to his influential name and pull at City Hall. Abby mentioned the debacle with Cage Wallace and likely date she would have to go on with him as payment for the radiology favor.

“Was the favor for the lost puppy from last night?” Thelonious asked. They sat on the couch, a baseball game on in the background.

Abby rolled her eyes. “Don’t call him that.”

His eyebrow rose. “Why do you care what I call him?”

Abby frowned, her mind blanking. “I don’t know.”

He smiled and drained the rest of his glass. He patted her knee before he stood to leave. “Yeah, you do, Abby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated! :)
> 
> I apologize for taking so long to update (I know I promised twice a week), but I finished my teaching course so hopefully I can update regularly.
> 
> -Lauren


	5. Distractions

Abby glanced at the time on her computer, sighing when she saw it was only 3:55. Her last appointment ended over an hour ago and she could barely focus on her research paper. Still, she trudged along and the next time she looked, it was 4:09. She sighed and leaned her head against the back of the chair, tapping her fingers lightly on the keys absently.

A loud knock sounded at her door and she sat bolt upright. She called, “Come in.”

The door opened and Dante Wallace walked in. He had a smile on his face, he always did Abby had found. She didn’t know if she had ever seen the man mad or if he was just very good at hiding it.

“Dr. Griffin, may I have a word?” Dante asked, standing just inside the door with it still open. He always liked to give anyone an out though she found that no one took him up on it.

“Of course,” Abby said, motioning for him to sit down. He shut the door and crossed the small office to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk.

“How’s Clarke?” He asked, crossing his ankle over his knee. “Did she finish that painting?”

Abby smiled. “She did. She wants to show you it. She’ll be in later to volunteer.”

“I look forward to it. Clarke’s special, she has a gift.”

She said, “She does. She appreciates your interest in her art.”

They looked at each other for a moment — Abby waiting for him to get to his point. He finally said, “I wanted to talk to you about your patient, Vera Kane.”

“What about her?” Abby asked, leaning forward against her desk.

“My son tells me that you owe him a favor for moving a Marcus Kane to the front of the x-ray line. I’m assuming there’s a relation there, I didn’t pry into the file.” Though he spoke calmly, his smile had disappeared and it worried her more than if he had raised his voice. “I’m wondering why you’re so close to this particular patient?”

“I’m not that close to her, sir,” Abby said quickly.

The smile was back, but it wasn’t the same — the light didn’t reach his eyes. He said, “Yet you see her for all of her dialysis appointments.”

“You brought me here to build relationships with the community—”

He interrupted, “Abby, I brought you here to see as many patients as possible, to build up this new department, _and_ to build relationships with the community. You cannot focus solely on one.”

“I still see my other patients. I’ve brought in hundreds of them, Chief,” Abby said slowly.

“I know you have, 738 by my last count.” Dante said nodding. “But, tell me, how often do you see them?”

She knew he had her cornered, he knew it too. Reluctantly, she answered, “Once every month or so.”

“And you’re not present at their dialysis appointments?” He asked.

“No, sir.”

“Exactly. Because that is a nurse’s job,” he said slowly, like he was making sure she heard each syllable. He looked at her in a way that gave her flashbacks to when she was in trouble with the principal back in high school even though she was the one sitting behind the desk at the moment. “Abby, I worry that you are overly invested in this Kane woman’s case. I’m assuming that you will be putting your work on hold to see her for her appointment in—” He checked his watch before meeting her eyes again, “—2 minutes?”

“I’m testing her son to see if he’s a match for her today,” Abby said simply.

“Something your intern can do on his own, he’s nearly done with his first year. Or send him to Tsing in hematology,” Dante said.

Her brows furrowed. “Have I offended you or something, sir? Have I not been getting my work done? Am I not competent with my time management?”

He stared at her blankly.

“If you can answer ‘yes’ to any of those, then we might have a problem. But the way I see it, I get everything that is asked of me done and then some while still managing to go the extra mile with some of my patients.” Abby said, her voice rising a little to surprise both of them. “Vera’s special to me, she’s in stage 4 renal failure and hasn’t let it affect her. She’s resilient, the other patients can learn something from her. Pardon me if I want to make sure she stays that way.”

Dante studied her for nearly a full minute and Abby let him, staring at him hard in return. He may be her boss, but she wasn’t about to let him tell her which patients she could see more than others, that was her business. Finally, he said, “Fine. But I’ll need something else from you.”

Her eyebrow raised.

“You’ll be organizing a fundraiser with the other heads of department,” he said as he stood. “Think of it as a way to prove that you really can do it all, Dr. Griffin.”

 

* * *

 

Vera was already hooked up to her machine by the time Abby arrived in the dialysis room ten minutes late. Marcus was in the chair next to her, reading a book, and Octavia lay on the bed pushed against the far wall. She rolled onto her side when Abby walked into the room and said, “About time, Doc.”

_“Octavia,”_ Marcus chastised without looking up from his book. He turned a page and continued reading as if no one and nothing had interrupted him. Abby looked away from him and continued toward the rolling chair near the computer. She grabbed the back of it and pulled it roughly across the room toward them.

“Is everything all right, dear?” Vera asked as Abby pulled the chair to a stop in front of her and sat down. “You’re normally not late.”

“The Chief of Medicine wanted a word,” Abby said with a frown. She was still seething from her meeting with Dante and hated that it was showing. She could normally compartmentalize her anger, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be completely professional right now.

“Nothing too serious, I hope,” Vera said concerned.

“It shouldn’t have been,” Abby muttered. She looked up from the chart in her hands and found Marcus looking at her intently, his book all but forgotten in his hands. There was a question in his eyes, but Abby couldn’t answer it, not here, not in front of Octavia and Vera.

“How are you feeling today, Vera?” Abby asked, flipping open the chart and tapping her pen against the page.

“I’m fine, dear,” Vera said with a smile.

“She’s lying,” Marcus muttered, eyes back on his book. Abby glanced at him and found a deep frown on his face. He said, “She gets winded walking more than a dozen feet. She barely eats. She can’t focus like she used to. Her toes tingle.”

“You forgot the nausea,” Octavia said, laying down on the bed again.

Abby looked at Vera and asked, “Is that true, Vera?”

“It’s not as bad as they make it seem,” she said quietly.

“Then how bad is it?”

Vera still had a smile on her face as she replied, “I’ve been in some pain.”

Marcus was shaking his head but didn’t say anything. His eyes met Abby’s over his book, the frown still plaguing his features. Abby felt a frown tug at her lips but kept it at bay. She looked to Vera again and found her watching them, a fond smile on her face. Abby cleared her throat and asked, “Have you been taking your medication?”

“Of course, dear,” she said with a nod.

“Have you been active at your church?” Abby asked.

Vera hesitated. She was one of the leaders of the spiritual church in Sellwood. Abby knew how much her work meant to her. Vera said, “I missed Saturday’s service.”

Abby nodded. “Why?”

“I was tired, my stomach hurt.” She said quietly as if it were a secret.

“Hunger pangs?” Abby asked and Vera nodded. She frowned and made a note on the chart. “I’m going to schedule you an appointment with a dietician, okay? We’ll figure this hunger issue out, Vera.”

“Thank you, dear,” she said, reaching out and patting Abby’s knee.

She nodded and stood from her seat, tucking the chart under her arm. She glanced at the man reading and asked, “Marcus, how about we go check on that shoulder?”

Marcus lowered his book and looked at her. “My shoulder’s fine.”

Abby rolled her eyes and beckoned for him to stand. He sighed, making a big show of it as he rose to his feet and dropped his book where he had been sitting. He started toward the door and said, “Let’s get this over with then.”

“Why can’t you do that here?” Octavia asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed as she sat up. The look she gave her father made Abby suspect she thought something more was going on. Marcus just looked at her and shook his head, a small movement. Octavia frowned but didn’t question is further.

“He deserves some privacy, don’t you think? Besides, another patient will be in soon and I’d rather them not walk in on a half-naked man,” Abby said, walking toward the door.

Marcus opened the door and held it for Abby to walk out. She couldn’t help herself, her eyes raked over his body as she passed him. She took in the muscles of his chest, visible due to his restrained arm pressing against his body. She appreciated his biceps pulling his shirt taut over the muscles. She enjoyed the small smile on his face just before her eyes met his. The door shut behind them and as they set off down the hallway, Abby asked, “Did your partner succeed in setting your house on fire?”

He laughed, “You heard that?

“You yelled it into the phone,” she said, smiling.

“Sorry, I thought I had hung up,” he said, unable to remove the grin from his face. “And to answer your question, no. I saved the house from Indra’s terrible cooking skills. I even managed to save the food.”

Abby was amazed at how easy it was to talk to him. It was like they had known each other for years, rather than a little over five weeks. She felt like she knew him because Vera was constantly talking about him. His mother was terribly proud of him and his accomplishments. She learned he had been a soldier for nearly ten years, though she could have figured out that he had some sort of military background on her own from the way he carried himself.

What interested her most was the way Vera talked about his relationship with his kids. She had seen it first hand, the casual nature of their family, but it was different hearing it from his mother. Vera loved those kids like they really were her grandchildren and it was clear from how she spoke of them that they felt the same about her. Abby wanted to know more, find out how he really came to be their father. She glanced at him as they walked, hoping that she would get the chance to ask.

She stopped them at the door to an exam room and pushed it open. She led the way in and smiled at the volunteer she had asked to meet her. Marcus walked in and eyed the girl warily but sat down on the exam table without questioning her presence. Abby walked to the counter and saw that Maya had already laid out everything they would need: tourniquet, collection tubes, cotton balls, adhesive tape. The only thing she was missing were the needles.

“Marcus Kane, Maya Vie. Maya Vie, Marcus Kane,” Abby called over her shoulder as she picked out the appropriately sized needle for the procedure. “I hope you don’t mind, Marcus, but I asked Maya to observe.”

“It’s fine,” he muttered. She could feel his eyes on her and, sure enough, when she glanced over her shoulder, he was watching her assemble the apparatus. She turned back to the task at hand and fitted the needle in before securing the first of the collection tubes to the back of the holder.

“Maya, would you apply the tourniquet?” Abby asked as she pulled the tray over and moved the supplies onto it.

“Of course, Dr. Griffin,” the girl said.

_“Maya,”_ Abby warned, not glancing up from her work.

“Sorry. _Abby_ ,” Maya replied. She met her eyes and found a small smile on the girl’s face. Abby was becoming increasingly fond of the volunteer. Maya had a knack for knowing what she needed before she even asked. Abby insisted she call her by her first name, she was friends with Clarke after all. It felt too formal for the girl who occasionally slept over to call her _Dr. Griffin._

Abby wheeled the tray over to Marcus and found that he already looked faint. Maya helped him pull his left arm out of the sleeve of the red plaid shirt he wore over a plain gray one. He seemed to be biting back bile as he watched Abby’s approach, desperately trying to focus on what Maya was doing. With the sleeve out of the way, Maya had him extend his arm and she applied the tourniquet.

Marcus’ eyes met Abby’s as she stood in front of him. She reached out, touching his arm gently as she said, “I need four tubes of blood, okay? I’m going to have you lie down because you already look like you’re going to pass out.”

He nodded and leaned back on the bed. Abby grabbed a chair and pulled it over to the side. She sat on it and lowered the tray to her new height. She touched his arm again and said, “Just close your eyes. Can you make a fist for me?”

He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Abby forced herself not to smile — this man had faced war for a decade, dealt with criminals daily, carried a gun for his own protection, and a small needle would be his downfall. He flinched away as she cleaned the area with an alcohol swab and Abby patted his fist soothingly as she waited for the skin to dry. His fingers twitched, like he wanted to grasp her hand but knew he shouldn’t. Abby looked at him, eyes widening, hoping to see something there, but his eyes were still shut.

“Talk about something,” Marcus muttered, nudging her hand with his fist. “Get my mind off of this.”

Abby smiled and squeezed his fist before she moved her hand to his upper forearm, pulling the skin taut as she gripped the holder with her other hand. She said, “Chief Wallace is very concerned about Vera.”

“He wants to know why you’ve taken such an interest in my mother, right?” Marcus asked, eyes pinching tighter at the corners as Abby slipped the needle into his vein.

“Yes, he’s concerned I’m not spending my time wisely.” Abby said, nodding though he couldn’t see. “Maya, remove the tourniquet.”

Maya did as she was instructed and the blood flowed more freely into the tube. She removed the first tube and handed it to the volunteer. She inserted another and told Maya, “Invert it half a dozen times to mix.”

Maya nodded. Abby knew she was happy to be involved, appreciated the first-hand experience. Maya commented as she set the tube down and accepted the second full one from Abby, “Chief Wallace is my neighbor.”

“It seems like everyone here has some influential neighbor,” Marcus commented. “My neighbor’s just an engineer.”

“Are they any good?” Abby asked, removing the third tube.

He smirked and said, “He thinks he is. Arrogant as hell, but I suppose that comes with the territory.”

“I suppose it does. I have a mechanic living with me and she thinks she walks on water,” Abby commented with a smile.

“If someone can fix something, they automatically think they’re entitled to some credit,” Maya said, taking the final tube from Abby. “That’s why engineers and mechanics are so arrogant.”

Marcus let out a quiet laugh.

“You can open your fist, Marcus,” Abby said as she grabbed the cotton ball. She glanced at Maya and found that she was already placing the labels on the tubes.

“Do you want me to take these to the lab?” She asked, holding the four tubes in her hands.

“Yes, tell Dr. Tsing that I want you to watch how the tests are performed,” Abby said. Maya nodded and left the room.

She turned back to Marcus and pressed the cotton ball against the injection site before removing the needle. His jaw clenched but he didn’t make a sound. She applied pressure to the injection site as she discarded the needle into the sharp object container. She grabbed the adhesive tape and secured the cotton ball over the venipuncture.

“Bellamy’s right, you are a big baby,” she commented as she pulled her hands away from him. His eyes flashed open and he glared at her. She smiled and said dryly, “A joke.”

“I know,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not an appreciated one, though.”

Abby shook her head slightly and replied, “You have to admit that a man with your history shouldn’t be afraid of a little needle.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you know of my history?”

“Your mother talks about you constantly, Marcus,” Abby said, smiling. “I know too much.”

His eyebrow rose, a challenge there for the taking. She just shook her head and said, “We should head back.”

He sat up slowly and Abby held out her hand. He grasped it, sliding off the table to his feet. He released her hand a few seconds later than he should have. Abby tried not to read too much into it; she led the way out of the room. They walked side-by-side down the hallway, so close their hands were nearly touching.

“It’s a shame,” he said, glancing her way as they neared the dialysis room. “I know nothing about you and you seem to know everything about me.”

“Tell your mom to stop being such a gossip,” Abby replied, meeting his eyes. “I shouldn’t know you peed your pants while on a carousel when you were five.”

She watched the blush creep up his neck and was beginning to find the redness very endearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated! :)
> 
> -Lauren


	6. House Call

Abby sat on the large front porch the following Saturday afternoon, book open in her hands. Callie had cancelled on their weekly walk — having brunch with her fiancé’s parents — leaving her with no plans. She read without really focusing on the book. She glanced at the page number — 140 — and realized that she didn’t know what had happened for nearly half of the book. She sighed and turned back to chapter 16 and started again. She got so lost in Elizabeth and Mr. Wickham’s conversation that she didn’t notice Raven open the front door and sit in the chair next to her.

“What are you reading?”

Abby started and looked at Raven who had a laptop on her thighs and was still typing away though her eyes were on Abby. She replied, _“Pride and Prejudice.”_

Raven took in the worn spine and frayed edges before meeting Abby’s eyes again. She asked, raising an eyebrow, “Favorite book?”

Abby nodded, lowering her eyes to the page. She had read the book too many times to count and enjoyed it when she was feeling conflicted or just needed something familiar. She knew why she had pulled it off the shelf today, why she needed to dive into Elizabeth Bennet’s strength and sharp wit.

She had been thinking of the week and how it had seemed to drag on. The second Abby left Vera’s appointment on Monday, she felt like she couldn’t focus. It wasn’t until she walked into her appointment on Wednesday and found that Marcus wasn’t there that she really understood why she had been feeling the way she did. Octavia had been there and gave her a knowing smirk before giving Vera a light kiss on the forehead and leaving for home. Abby hadn’t stayed long, she had needed time to herself.

He wasn’t there on Friday either and Abby just hooked Vera up to the machine and started to leave. Vera called her back and asked what was wrong. Abby said nothing was wrong but the patient stared at her blankly until Abby said that she had paperwork to do and might see her Monday. She felt terrible, leaving Vera like that, but she didn’t want to risk hearing more stories about Marcus and letting the infatuation grow within her.

“I guess there’s something to it — mysterious man, intelligent girl,” Raven commented, bringing her back to the present. Abby glanced up at her, finding a smirk on her face. “You know they end up together, right?”

Abby rolled her eyes and scolded, _“Raven_. Don’t start.”

“When are you just going to ask this guy out?” She asked, looking at Abby. “You obviously like him.”

 _“Like him?_ I’m not a teenager,” Abby muttered, frowning at her book.

Raven sighed and said, “Fine, you think he’s attractive. You like his personality. He probably makes you laugh. Just ask him out, see where it goes. It’s really not that hard.”

“Says the girl who refuses to date,” Abby said quietly, staring at the page. The words blurred together, her eyes unfocused. She blinked before looking at Raven again, finding a deep frown on her face.

“You know what happened,” Raven whispered.

Abby reached out and patted her hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring Wick up.”

Raven shook her head. “It’s fine. Just ask him out.”

Abby frowned, picking her phone up from the end table between their chairs. “I haven’t asked someone out in 25 years.”

“Let me do it,” Raven said confidently, reaching out for the phone. Abby shook her head, holding the phone to her chest, and replied, “It would be weird…if something did happen with us. I don’t want it to start because of someone else.”

Raven smiled fondly at her and nodded. She picked her computer up and stood. She said, “I’ll leave you to it. Dibs on being maid of honor at your wedding.”

Abby rolled her eyes as Raven walked toward the door. She turned the handle and called out, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Abby sighed heavily, loud enough for her tenant to hear, and waited until the door shut behind a laughing Raven Reyes before she found Marcus’ number in her phone and pressed it tentatively. She raised the phone to her ear and listened to the rings. A voice answered on the fifth ring, but it wasn’t his.

 _“What’s up, Doc?”_ Octavia asked, Abby could hear her smirk.

“Hi, Octavia,” Abby said, immediately regretting placing the phone call. Getting anyone but Marcus was a real let down. “Is your dad around?”

 _“No, I have his phone, mine took a swim.”_ She replied. Abby heard a horse whinny near the phone’s speaker and knew she must be at work. _“As honorable as I’m sure your intentions are, may I ask what you want with him?”_

Abby rolled her eyes. “I wanted to see how his shoulder is.”

 _“Sure you do,”_ she scoffed. _“Listen, Doc, you’ve taken quite an interest in him for being a kidney doctor. So here’s some advice: he’s home, why don’t you go check on him yourself and see if he likes you too.”_

“I never—” Abby balked, not used to people seeing right through her.

Octavia laughed. _“Seriously, Doctor Griffin, go check out his shoulder, if that’s what you crazy kids are calling it these days.”_

She hung up on Abby. Abby stared at the phone in her hand for longer than she cared to admit. But once she came to her senses it didn’t take her long to decide to take Octavia’s advice. She went to her bedroom and tossed the book on the bed. She entered her closet, scanning the prospect of clothes. She frowned at the selection, nothing seemed right for dropping by Marcus’ house unannounced.

“Need help?” Abby turned and found Clarke leaning against the doorjamb. She was wearing a black dress and dangled a pair of red heels by a finger.

“Where are you going?” Abby asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Wells is taking me to dinner,” Clarke said innocently as she tossed her shoes onto Abby’s bed. She walked into the closet and started riffling through her mother’s clothes. Clarke pulled out a low cut red tank top and held it out for her. Abby didn’t take it. She sighed and said, “Raven told me what you were up to. This one looks good on you. Put a cami under it if you don’t want to give him a show on the first date.”

“It’s not a date,” Abby muttered, refusing to take the revealing shirt from her daughter.

“Whatever,” he said, putting the shirt back. She pulled out another shirt and Abby took the new selection. She walked toward the section that contained Abby’s pants and skirts.

“I’m wearing these,” Abby said, motioning to her tan shorts. Clarke glanced at them and said, “No, you’re not.”

Abby ended up with an entirely new outfit and Clarke left her to change while she waited out in the bedroom. Abby stripped off her clothes and pulled on the new ones, a black and white striped shirt and a pink flowy skirt that only went halfway down her thighs. She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed.

She opened the closet door and looked at Clarke who was sitting on the bed. She said, “This isn’t a date, you know.”

Her daughter shrugged and replied, “It should be.” Abby’s head tilted to the side and Clarke added, “You deserve to be happy.”

It had been three years since Jake died and Clarke had never said anything about the fact that Abby hadn’t dated since, how she hadn’t been with a man since. But this was her way of saying that it was time, that she was okay with it. She had come a long way from the distraught fourteen year old who had chastised Abby for even talking to another man, no matter how innocent the conversations had been.

She smiled at her daughter and asked, “Don’t you have a date to get to?”

Clarke grabbed a pair of brown sandals and tossed them to her mother. She said as she walked toward the door, “Don’t you?”

 

* * *

 

She cut the Focus’ engine after pulling against the curb in front of the yellow Craftsman. She smiled as she stepped out of the car, grabbing the six pack of beer. As she walked up the path, classic rock spilled out of the open windows. She smiled to herself as she climbed the steps and crossed the porch.

The door opened nearly a minute after she knocked and Marcus stood there — blue shirt buttoned halfway, hair tousled, heavy stubble lining his jaw, and brows furrowed in confusion. All she could do was smile at him because she knew how much of a surprise her arrival must be.

“What are you doing here?” Marcus asked, uncertainly.

“Normal people would say ‘hello,’” she replied with a smirk.

He nodded seriously and said, “You’re right. _Hello_. What brings you by?”

She held up the six pack of beer and nodded to his shoulder. “House call.”

He let out a laugh. “House call? Really, Abby?”

“Well, _someone_ refuses to go to the hospital like a normal person.”

He stared at her for a moment before grinning. He stepped aside, opening the passage into the house for her. “Why would I go to the hospital when I have my very own doctor to show up unannounced?”

“It wouldn’t have been unannounced if you didn’t give your phone to Octavia,” she said, brushing passed him into the house. The music was much louder inside the house and Queen blared from the speaker system. “Don’t Stop Me Now” had never seemed so appropriate. Abby took a good look at the house, having barely seen in last time she was here. The front tv room and living room were to her right, the stairs and what she assumed was the door to a bathroom were to her left. Behind the living room was the dining room, a sun room behind that, hidden partially by walls on both sides but a large arch allowed entry into the bright room and the backyard was accessed through a large glass door in that room. The entire first floor was sparsely decorated, which she figured was habit from his years in the military. Abby hadn’t expected such a nice home from the gruff detective and blinked away her confusion.

“So she answered when you called?” He asked, walking passed her and leading the way to the kitchen that turned out to be next to the dining room.

“Yes, very blunt that daughter of yours,” she replied as she set the beer on the island before turning to face him. His eyebrow was raised as he looked at her from the other side of the island. She answered his unasked question, “She wants to make sure my intentions are honorable.”

He laughed quietly, looking passed her out the glass door. His eyes returned to her and he said, “Of course she does. But, just for the record, are they?”

She looked him in the eye as she replied, “I’m not sure yet.”

He grinned and walked to the fridge, grabbing a bottle opener that was magnetized to the surface. He pointed to the six pack with it and asked, “Need an opener?”

She nodded and pulled out two beers from the carrier. She held them while he opened them with his left hand, taking a little longer with his non-dominant hand. His hand brushed hers as he set the opener down. She glanced up to meet his eyes, but found them closed in pain and was reminded of when he looked like he wanted to hold her hand during his blood test.

Abby stood and went to his side. She touched his arm lightly and his eyes opened, there was a tightness to the corners as he looked at her. She asked gently, “Are you all right?”

He nodded. “The medication doesn’t take away all of the pain.”

She squeezed his arm and asked, “Do you want another prescription?”

Marcus shook his head, smiling. “You’ve done enough.”

She opened her mouth to retort but he pulled away from her and grabbed one of the beers before heading toward the glass door and the backyard. Her eyes followed him until he opened the door and walked out, leaving her alone. She sighed and grabbed her beer, taking a long drink of it.

“Are you just going to sit in there by yourself?” He called through the open window. She looked his way and found him smirking at her through the window over the open lid of a grill. She rolled her eyes and set her purse on the counter before walking out of the house.

“What smells so good?” She asked, sitting at the small table nestled in the deck’s corner. The German Shepard whose name she had forgotten padded over to her from the lower deck. He sniffed at her legs and Abby leaned down, holding her hand for the dog to inspect.

When she looked up, Marcus was looking at her fondly. He blinked when he saw she had noticed and cleared his throat. He replied, “Steak. Do you want one?” Sheraised an eyebrow and he half shrugged. “Octavia bailed on me to go riding with her boyfriend, I have extra.”

She studied him seriously and he stood there under her scrutiny, awaiting her answer. She asked, “Did you plan this? No kids. Extra food. I swear I’m just hear to check on your shoulder.”

He grinned. “I’m not capable of being that smooth, Abby.”

“I think you’re more than capable,” she said, her eyes dropping to his lips for the briefest of moments before meeting his eyes again. There was a bewilderment in them, staring at her wide. She smiled and said, “I can’t in good faith let you eat alone on a Saturday night.”

He nodded and walked back into the house, leaving her alone with the dog. She took in a deep breath and leaned forward, holding her hand out for the German Shepard to sniff again. He did and licked the back of her hand after a moment. She scratched behind his ears as she idly pulled at the hem of her skirt.

Marcus walked out of the house again, holding a plate in his hand. He pulled off the saran wrap and slapped the steak onto the grill before shutting the lid. He glanced at her before grabbing his beer from the railing. He walked over to the table and sat across from her, setting his beer down on the table after taking a long pull from it. She continued to scratch the dog’s ears as she reached for her beer and Marcus commented, “Should you be drinking before you examine my shoulder?”

Her eyes found his and the easy smile on his face. It was infectious and she felt a smile tugging at her lips as she replied, “It’s one of the perks of not being in the hospital for this. I’d have my license taken away for practicing under the influence. But here, it’s completely fine.”

He nodded, deep in thought. After a few moments, he said, “Plus you get free food. And the company of Kaiser.”

She smiled. “I’m really here for the dog.”

He grinned and raised the bottle to his lips, surveying her over it. He murmured against the lip of the bottle, “He’s a lucky guy.”

She hid her blush by leaning down to scratch the dog’s ear with both hands. She heard the scrape of a chair on wood and footsteps on the deck, knowing that he had returned to the grill and it was safe to look up. She leaned back in her chair and Kaiser bounded down the stairs to the lower deck where a dog bed awaited him under the canopy of branches. She smiled and looked passed him at the bed of flowers and herbs before commenting, “I didn’t take you for the gardening type of man.”

She heard a light laugh come from his direction and looked his way. His back was still to her and he called over his shoulder, “And what type of man did you take me for?”

“Well,” she hesitated. It didn’t go unnoticed, he turned and leaned against the railing, crossing his arms as best he could with the sling. He waited, she had the feeling he would wait for hours for her to tell him exactly what she thought of him. “The beer and camping type.”

He let out a breathy laugh before replying, “You’re not wrong. The plants are my mother’s. The kids brought them over one day, freshly dug up. They claimed she insisted I have them, she said they needed someone more capable to take care of them.”

“She acts as if they have feelings,” Abby commented. He nodded slowly as he shut the lid of the grill and started to walk back to her at the table.

“To her, they do,” he said as he sat down.

“Meaning?”

“My mother’s very spiritual,” he began. “I’m sure you’ve noticed. It’s a wonder I even got her to agree to dialysis. She wanted to use _natural remedies_. She’d be dead by now.”

“You shouldn’t denounce her beliefs, Marcus,” Abby said before raising the bottle to her lips.

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” He asked, his eyes growing cold. “That woman raised me, I accepted her beliefs long ago. I’m ensuring she survives now.”

“She doesn’t seem too concerned with surviving,” she whispered, setting the bottle down again.

“No, she doesn’t,” he murmured before taking a long pull of his beer. He set the beer down and stood from the table again. He glanced at her and asked, “Green beans or asparagus?”

“Sorry?” She asked, confused by the sudden change of conversation.

“We can’t just have meat, Abby,” he said as if it were the most logical change of topic. She answered, “Green beans.”

He nodded with a smile and disappeared into the house. She stared at the closed door for a moment before she reached for her beer. She knew Vera had been difficult in the early days of her diagnosis. Abby had inherited her from a retiring doctor at another hospital when she moved to town. Her first meeting had been _interesting_. She had presented the option of dialysis immediately after reading up on her case, but Vera had flat out denied it. Yet, when they next met a few weeks later, Vera said that they should give it a try. Abby had thought she had a change of heart, she knew now that Marcus had persuaded her; for that, she should be thanking him.

“Need another?” He asked as he walked out of the house, two beers wedged under his armpit, a bowl of green beans in his hand. She smiled and rose to her feet, taking the bowl from him. “Thanks.”

She opened the lid and dumped the vegetables into the grill basket before shutting the lid again and setting the bowl down on the wide railing. He stood near her, beers still under his armpit, bottle opener in his slightly swollen right hand. She reached out and grabbed the beers, setting them on the railing, and taking the opener from his hand. She asked, as she popped the top off the first beer, “How was your first week of doing nothing?”

“It’s so boring,” he said, his eyes falling shut for a brief moment. He smiled and let out a small laugh. “I’m going crazy here. The kids are gone all day, I can only go places within walking distance.” He looked at her seriously as he said, “I’m glad you stopped by today.”

“Well, I can’t let you eat alone on a Saturday night,” she said, smiling. She tapped the bottle against his hand and his fingers curled around it. She opened her bottle as she said, “Clarke is with Wells anyway.”

“Oh?” He asked, fighting the smirk as he turned to the grill. “Is that happening?”

“I guess,” she said with a frown.

“Kids are tough, sometimes you just have to let them do their own thing,” he said quietly as he turned the steaks. “You and Clarke seem to…I don’t know, have a strained relationship, if you don’t mind my saying.”

She shook her head. “Clarke and I have gotten better since moving here,” Abby began slowly. He had turned and was watching her so intently, she thought she should feel unnerved. But she didn’t, she felt entirely comfortable around him, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. “I was so busy in Los Angeles, I didn’t put her first. My career was most important to me then.”

He nodded and muttered, “Be here now.”

“Sorry?” She asked, leaning forward.

He smiled and clarified, “It’s something my mom’s fond of saying. She always takes it upon herself to remind me to ‘be here now’ when I’m too caught up in a case or more invested in the lives of the kids at the center than I am in Bellamy and Octavia’s. It means to be present, because that’s all that matters.”

She nodded. “I like that. But what about the future?”

He half shrugged. “I don’t like to think about the future.”

“Why not?” She asked, an eyebrow raising.

He looked down at the deck, hesitating before he replied, “In the past, I learned that there wasn’t much stock in the future.”

She took an unconscious step toward him and took his hand. His eyes rose to meet hers and she asked, “What does that mean?”

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “The army’s not a place where you think you have one.”

He turned back to the grill, pulling his hand from hers. She watched the tension in his shoulder rise and felt herself deflate, frowning. She took a step toward the grill and grabbed the plate for him, holding it out for the steaks. He smiled at her — a genuine smile — and set the first steak on it then the second. She grabbed the bowl next and flipped the green beans into it from the basket. Abby turned the grill off and brought the plate and bowl over to the table, feeling Marcus’ eyes on her as she did. She glanced back at him and saw a bewildered look on his face, as if he hadn’t expected her to help at all.

He blinked and started toward the back door but Abby shook her head. She said, “I’ll get the plates, where are they?”

“Third cabinet from the left,” he said uncertainly, slowing to a halt.

She smiled at him and said, “Sit down, doctor’s orders.”

He laughed and turned around to grab both of their beers from the railing. She entered the house and over the music, she heard her phone ringing. She retrieved it from her purse and found _Raven Reyes_ on the screen. She groaned before answering, “What do you want?”

 _“To see how it’s going,”_ Raven replied. _“Have you made your move yet?”_

Abby sighed and said, “No, and I’m not going to.”

 _“Why not?”_ There was an accusation there, like she thought Abby was dragging her feet and sabotaging her own happiness. _“You like him, he likes you, what’s the problem?”_

“You don’t know that he likes me,” Abby scoffed as she wedged the phone between her ear and her shoulder so she could reach up and grab the plates. She set them on the counter and began opening the drawers for silverware.

 _“Shut up, of course he does, Abby. Have you seen you?”_ Raven said, a smirk in her voice. _“Just pull the trigger and make out with that guy already.”_

 _“Raven,”_ she warned as she found the right drawer and pulled out two knives and two forks.

 _“Fine, fine. I’ll leave it alone. But you should heed my advice,”_ Raven said. _“Remember, I call dibs on being maid of honor.”_

“Goodbye, Raven,” Abby said, lowering her phone and ending the call. She set the phone back on the counter and grabbed the plates and silverware.

Marcus was sitting at the table, taking a drink of his beer, when she returned to the deck. He smiled at her and accepted the plates from her. He set a steak on her plate as he asked, “So, who’s Raven?”

He was piling green beans next to it for her as the heat rose up her neck to flood her cheeks with redness. He wasn’t looking though, concentrating on not spilling the vegetables everywhere by using his left hand. If he had heard who she was talking to on the phone, he had surely heard everything she had said. If he had heard anything more than her name, he didn’t mention it, something she was grateful for. She accepted the plate from him and replied, “She’s renting out the apartment in my basement.”

“The mechanic?”

She was surprised he had remembered. It was an offhanded comment made nearly a week ago when he was trying not to pass out. She asked, “You remember that?”

He nodded with a smile. “I’m capable of paying attention.”

They talked all throughout dinner. Abby heard tales about Marcus’ partner Indra Rowan; about the most interesting cases he had worked; about the juvenile outreach program he helped found nearly five years ago. She mainly talked about her favorite intern, Eric Jackson, and the volunteers at the hospital, Clarke among them. He leaned forward when he wasn’t eating, listening intently, his eyes on her. She couldn’t not smile when he looked at her like that.

Respectfully, he steered clear of the reason she had moved to Portland, the reason his eyes drifted to the two wedding rings hanging from the chain on her neck. She didn’t wear hers anymore, but kept it next to Jake’s on the necklace. It was admirable, his restraint.

After dinner, Abby brought the plates back into the house, Marcus and Kaiser trailing after her. She set the plates in the sink and grabbed the sponge. He cleared his throat behind her and said, “You don’t have to do that, Abby.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him and said, “You were kind enough to make the dinner, I can at least clean up.”

Abby waited until he was seated at the island with a beer before she started. She could feel his eyes on her as she washed the few dishes they had dirtied. She set the last one on the rack and said, “Let’s look at that shoulder.”

He groaned and said, “It’s fine.”

“I’m looking at it,” she said sternly as she stepped toward him around the island. “It’s the whole reason I’m here.”

He swallowed audibly and looked at her with his lips parted before he said quietly, “We both know that’s not true.”

She stopped in her tracks and stared at him incredulously. He looked away and busied himself with undoing his sling. Abby’s hands fidgeted as she walked toward him, she smoothed them down her skirt to try to calm herself. He set the sling on the counter and started on the first button of his shirt before pausing. He glanced at her, as if asking if it was the right thing. She nodded and reached for her beer. She looked away, giving him his privacy, and crouched down to scratch behind the dog’s ears.

It was a minute before Marcus cleared his throat and she glanced up, meeting his eyes. He gave her a small smile as he set his shirt on top of the sling. Abby looked back to Kaiser and scratched behind his ears for a few more seconds as she took a long pull from her beer, finishing it off. She stood and set the empty bottle on the counter next to his.

She stepped close to him and tried not to look at the muscles now visible to her, but rather at the bruising that had spread to his chest and down his arm. She had seen the light bruising all the way to his fingertips earlier, but the deep purple and blue that was higher up his body was startling. She didn’t deal with injuries like this anymore and she would have thought it out of the ordinary if she hadn’t read up on this type of fracture earlier in the week.

“Stand up,” she said quietly. It all felt so intimate now that his shirt was off and her stomach suddenly felt empty despite the fact that they had just eaten. He stood from the stool and was so close to her, she forced herself to take a step back.

Abby reached out and took his right hand, pulling it away from his chest where he still held it even after removing the sling, more so out of habit than need. She slowly stretched his arm out until it was fully extended and his eyes were on her, studying her. Abby kept hers lowered, paying attention to the rotation of his wrist before she moved onto his elbow, testing its range of motion.

He drew in a sharp breath, eyes squeezing shut, when she accidentally pulled on his elbow and he grasped her forearm so tightly to still her, she gasped in pain. He released her immediately and his eyes widened, the color draining from his face when he realized what he had done. He touched the same spot tentatively and whispered, “I’m sorry. Are you all right?”

She nodded and placed her hand over his on her arm. Their eyes locked together and Abby didn’t know who leaned in first or if they did it at the same time but suddenly their lips were pressed together. Her hands rose to his hair and his cradled her jaw as his tongue parted her lips and slipped into her mouth. She felt the heat rise in her chest, accompanied by the overwhelming need to get closer to him. She restrained — he was still shirtless and she didn’t want to overstep her bounds — keeping a few inches between their bodies but she let her hands thread through his hair as their tongues met again and again until they were both so breathless that they had to pull away.

His teeth grazed her bottom lip and they looked at each other. He had a stupid grin on his face and she smiled at it. Marcus asked, breathless, “Are you busy tomorrow night?”

“I shouldn’t date my patient’s son,” she said as seriously as she could. His face fell and she couldn’t keep the smile off of her face. She reached out and stroked the stubble on his face. Abby leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss before she murmured against them, “I’ll pick you up at 7.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for taking over a week and a half to update, I feel awful about the delay! I'll try better in the future. I hope the 5K+ word chapter was worth the wait!
> 
> As usual, reviews are always welcomed and appreciated! :)
> 
> -Lauren


	7. Trail of Flowers

“So this _is_ a date, right?” Raven asked, rolling over onto her stomach. Her elbow knocked against Clarke’s knee as she propped her head up in her hands to watch Abby get ready. Abby nodded from the closet, deciding between two shirts. Raven and Clarke looked at each other and smiled, but when Abby walked out a few minutes later in hiking pants and a long sleeve shirt with her boots in hand, the smiles faltered.

“I think you’re mistaking the days, Mom,” Clarke said, staring at the boots.

Abby gave her a pointed look before sitting down on the bench at the end of her bed to put on her boots. They both knew the plan, Marcus had called that morning as they were headed to breakfast. She was picking him up at two o’clock; he had decided in the night that he wanted to show her one of his favorite places. The girls had thought it was romantic all during their meal, it seemed they were having second doubts now.

“So he’s dragging you away from us on Mother’s Day?” Raven asked, glancing at Clarke. “Was he really that good of a kisser?”

Abby didn’t let the comment phase her — she kept tightening the laces of her boots as she replied, “You guys said it was okay. And you’re not even my kid, Raven.”

Raven’s hand flew to her chest as Clarke fought a laugh. “That hurts, Abby. I thought we were close.”

Abby smiled and leaned up. “I wouldn’t have let you pay for half of breakfast if I didn’t like you.”

“An honor, to dole out money for you,” Raven replied, smiling.

Abby knew Raven’s mother meant nothing to her, a drunk who cast her daughter aside in favor of alcohol. Everything Raven had, she obtained on her own. She had graduated high school a year early and finished her associates degree in a year and a half. Abby was tremendously proud of her and honored that Raven thought of her as a surrogate mother.

Abby smiled as she stood up. The girls followed her out of the room and down the stairs. She grabbed her purse from the hook and paused at the door, her hand on the doorknob. She looked at the two girls behind her and asked, “Are you sure it’s okay that I go?”

Clarke smiled and said, “It’s fine. Raven and I are just going to watch movies all day.”

“But—”

“Get the hell out of here, Mom,” Clarke said, pushing her lightly out the door. Abby smiled as the door shut behind her and she walked to her car.

She was at Marcus’ door in five minutes. She took a step back when the door opened to reveal Bellamy Blake. He was sweaty and looked worn out, but it didn’t stop him from looking Abby up and down and asking, “He really talked you into this?”

Abby nodded and Bellamy’s eyebrow quirked up like he was questioning her sanity. But, he stepped aside and allowed her access to the house. He said, “He’s in the kitchen.”

“Thank you,” Abby said before she headed through the house. She heard Bellamy’s footsteps on the stairs as she entered the kitchen, thinking this interaction was a vast improvement on their last one.

Marcus was packing something into a backpack when she turned the corner. He zipped it and looked up at her, an easy smile spreading on his face. “Hey. How was the rest of your night?”

“Less eventful once I left here.”

His eyes searched hers for a moment and he opened his mouth, a question on his lips, but Bellamy yelled from upstairs, “Are there any clean towels, Dad?”

Marcus rolled his eyes and called back, “Try the laundry, Bell.”

Abby pursed her lips, hiding the smile that wanted desperately to show itself. Her eyes met Marcus’ again and she smiled anyway. She asked, “Are you ready to go?”

He nodded and slung the backpack over his good shoulder. He led the way toward the door and Abby trailed, looking over the room again. It was the same as last time, just as white and sparsely decorated. The one picture on the wall caught her eye and she stared at it as she followed him to the door.

It was a painting of various Washington D.C. landmarks: the Lincoln Memorial, the National Mall, the Washington Monument, the White House, even several war memorials. Reluctantly, Abby snapped her gaze from it and walked through the door after Marcus.

“I’ve never seen that painting before,” she commented as he shut the door behind them. She had been to too many art galleries in various cities with Clarke but the one in his living room was a mystery.

He glanced at her and nodded before walking toward her car in the driveway. “You wouldn’t have. Octavia’s boyfriend painted it, he’s extremely talented. Lincoln’s from D.C.”

Abby smiled. “And you hung up his painting?”

“I like the kid,” he said with a shrug. “It’s a good painting.”

“You’re a constant surprise,” she muttered before opening her door and climbing into the car. He was grinning when he slid into his seat and set the backpack on the floor between his legs. She started the car and backed it out of the driveway as she asked, “Where am I going?”

He smiled and replied, “Take I-84 East, I’ll let you know more when we get closer.”

She nodded and felt her pulse rise, the excitement coursing through her. It was clear he wanted their destination to be as much of a surprise as it could be when he wasn’t the one driving, so she didn’t question him. It was in his favor that she hadn’t ventured out of the city to the east very much since moving to Portland.

They were on the interstate five minutes later and she asked, “How did Octavia meet Lincoln?”

“They work together at the Woods’ ranch, just south of Portland.” He explained, turning in the seat so he could look at her. “Titus is an old family friend and Octavia’s been working at the ranch since she came to live with me. Lincoln knew Titus’ daughter Lexa from school, so he was helping out at the ranch.”

Abby nodded and kept her eyes on the road, letting the music from the radio fill the car. He was fine with the silence, she too found it wasn’t uncomfortable. After a while, he asked, “How’s Clarke?”

She smiled, glancing his way as she replied, “She’s okay, stressed about finals coming up.”

“And her date with Wells? How did that go?” He had turned in his seat again to face her as much as he could. He was giving her his full attention and she found it an endearing quality. She was surprised he was taking an interest in Clarke, wondering if it was just an act.

“It went well,” she said slowly. He smiled and kept his eyes on her as she tried to recall what Clarke had said about the date over breakfast that morning. “She seems to really like him.”

“You really want the mayor as an in-law?” He joked, a grin on his face. She rolled her eyes and replied, “He’s not _that_ bad.”

“I’ve just seen his posters,” he said with a shrug.

They descended into silence again and he reach out to fiddle with the radio station, but his hand paused halfway there. He glanced at her as if asking for permission and she nodded her assent. He smiled to himself and changed the station to what seemed to be his favorite. David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” played through the speakers and Abby saw Marcus relax into a state of what she would call serenity in the passenger seat. She had never expected this side of him, but she liked it. She could see him tapping his fingers lightly against his leg to the beat of the song, a small smile on his face.

As the song changed to Kansas’ “Carry on Wayward Son,” Marcus said quietly, “I’m sorry for taking you from Clarke.”

Abby glanced his way and found him frowning at the dashboard. She nudged his arm with her hand to make him look at her. “It’s okay, _really_. We normally just do breakfast. It’s tradition.”

He smiled slowly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I was worried all morning.”

“There was no need for that,” she said, reaching over again to pat his hand. As she pulled back, he caught her hand in his and laced their fingers together, holding her there. She smiled at him and asked, “Did you at least get Vera something?”

“She doesn’t like gifts, so I normally do something big around the house. But Bellamy had to do that this year.” He frowned at his sling before meeting her eyes again. “And I always bake her cupcakes, I’ve done it since I was a kid.”

“You bake?” She asked, eyebrow raising on its own volition.

“There’s more to me than just camping and beer, Abby,” he said with a grin. She looked him up and down, wanting to know what else there was to him. “Did Clarke get you anything?”

“I’m sure you’ll see it at some point,” she said absently. His eyebrow was raised when she looked his way again and she suddenly realized how it must have sounded. “Oh! She painted me something.”

He was still grinning as she looked out the windshield, embarrassed. She was just glad he didn’t ask about Raven’s gift. A blush crept up her neck at the thought of it. If he noticed, he didn’t comment on it. She enjoyed that quality about him, he was very respectful, taking great care not to embarrass her.

Fifteen minutes later, he said quietly, “Take US-30 at Mosier.”

They arrived ten minutes later, Abby pulled the car against the side of the road and cut the engine. Marcus climbed out and slung the backpack over his good shoulder, pulling one part of the chest strap under his hanging arm. Abby shut her door and walked to him, taking the two straps from him and attaching them. He smiled at her and said, “Thanks.”

She leaned up on her tiptoes, her hands still on his chest, and pressed a light kiss to his lips. When she pulled back, he looked stunned, trying to blink it away. She smiled and started toward the trail, passing a sign that read _Rowena Crest._ He seemed to have regained his consciousness because he was at her side a few seconds later, keeping pace with her as they started on the McCall Point Trail.

It wasn’t until the grass gave way to the wildflowers that she realized why he liked this place so much. It was wildly unremarkable until she saw the first cluster of white. Marcus leaned close to her and said, “That’s yarrow; it’s said to be a cure for heartache.”

Abby looked at him, her mouth opened slightly. He didn’t see her, he was busy scanning the field. He stopped suddenly and said, “That’s balsam.” He was pointing at the many yellow flowers surrounding this part of the trail. “It means impatience.”

Abby smiled and commented, “And I thought your mother was the flower expert.”

He replied, “I may have grown up with a few dozen books on the subject.”

They took off again and Abby laced their fingers together. He glanced down at their hands and she saw the smile spread on his face. His eyes met hers and the smile faltered, embarrassed that he had been caught doing it. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. He looked forward again and she saw that the smile had returned.

The incline increased and they weren’t able to talk for a few minutes until it evened out again and they could catch their breaths. When it did, Marcus pointed their joined hands at the bushes of red flowers amongst the sea of yellow. “Indian paintbrush; you can actually eat the flower, if you really wanted too.”

“And why would you want to?” She asked as he lowered their hands.

He shrugged and said, “It has some health benefits, I’m sure. Various Native American tribes used it to treat burns and stings or to boost the immune system, others used it to treat STDs and rheumatism.”

“Resourceful,” she commented, pulling them to a stop to examine the nearest bush.

“The roots are poisonous,” he said as she reached out to touch it. Her hand pulled back quickly and she glared at him when she heard him laughing quietly. “Only if eaten in large amounts.”

“You ass,” she said as she stood. Abby swatted his good shoulder before she took off on the trail again. He caught up with her and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together again.

They reached McCall Point after another mile of walking and Marcus walked toward a tree while Abby continued along the plateau. He plopped unceremoniously on the ground and she took in the sights: the Columbia River to the north, the field of wildflowers they were in, Mount Adams in the distance. But the real beauty lay to the southwest, where — across a sea of trees — Mount Hood rose. Abby stood there, marveling at the stark white against the blue above and green below. Abby turned, mouth open to ask him how far away Mount Hood was, but her mouth shut when her eyes found what was waiting for her.

Marcus sat on the ground, leaning his left shoulder against the trunk of the tree, a blanket spread out under him. He had pulled out sandwiches and fruit from the backpack and set them on the blanket. Abby’s eyes were wide when his met hers and she blinked a few times before she walked over to him. He patted the ground next to him and she smiled, sitting down. She commented, “I really didn’t expect all of this.”

“Like you said, I’m a constant surprise,” he said with a grin.

He really was, Abby was beginning to find. They talked quietly as they ate, watching the water move on the river. Abby found that the date was a lot like him: no frills, just perfect. She blushed at the thought, thankful that he was looking out over the plateau at the Gorge. She didn’t know what it was about him that made her feel so comfortable.

She wanted to know what was going on in his head as he bit into that apple, watching the water. He looked so at peace and she didn’t understand how this man had been in the army yet knew so much about flowers, how he could be cold at times yet take in two children who had no where else to go. It was like he was an enigma and she just couldn’t crack his code. There was something about…

“You’re staring,” he muttered, cutting through her thoughts. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and she lowered her gaze to the blanket. He put the apple in his restrained hand and reached over with his good arm, taking her hand lightly in his. He said with a smile, “Don’t worry, it takes a lot to offend me.”

She raised her eyes to meet his and he squeezed her hand. She did the only thing she could think of: she leaned over and kissed him full on the lips, tasting apple. He let out a surprised gasp as her lips adjusted on his and she leaned closer, holding his hand tightly in hers while the other rose and danced along the skin of his neck with featherlight touches.

His eyes searched hers when she finally pulled away. Quietly, he asked, “What was that for?”

Abby shrugged, running her fingers absently along his neck. “This is nice. I don’t really know what I expected, but you certainly surpassed it.”

He smiled and leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers again. He murmured against them, “I’m glad.”

 

 

They stayed on the plateau for nearly another hour, resting against the tree trunk, watching the birds take flight. He pulled out a cupcake for her and Abby listened to him talk about Bellamy and Octavia, about how proud he was of how far they had come in the past eight years, as she ate it. After, Abby talked about Clarke and how she was adjusting to life in Portland. She was still amazed at how attentive he was while she spoke: leaning close, gaze unwavering.

Reluctantly, as the sun made its journey westward, they pushed themselves to their feet and packed up. Abby secured the backpack for Marcus again and took his hand as they started back down the path. They walked in comfortable silence, listening to the birds chirp in the trees.

“What’s this one?” Abby asked, pulling him to a stop to examine a singular purple flower amongst balsam. She wanted to touch it, but thought she should refrain. The four petals were nearly transparent and a light purple, lavender she thought.

“Opium poppy,” he said, crouching next to her. He gently ran his finger along one of the petals as he said, “It is pretty rare for the area.”

“It’s beautiful,” she commented, reaching out and touching the petal like he had. He smiled as he watched her feel the soft petal. She looked at him and asked, “What’s your favorite?”

He grinned as he rose to his feet, offering her his hand. She took it and rose to stand, letting him lead her down the trail again. He answered, “That’s a loaded question. You don’t grow up with Vera as your mother and have only one favorite flower. But, here, I like the California poppy. We will likely see some, they are orange with four petals. I also like the Columbian lily, but I rarely see that one here, certainly not at this time of year. It’s a shame, I think you would like that one.”

She smiled at him and said quietly, “We’ll just have to come back when they’re in bloom.”

 

* * *

 

The sun was setting as they exited the highway, returning to Portland. Marcus still held her hand in his as he stared out the window. He ran his thumb gently over the back of it, listening to the same classic rock station from earlier.

He said over the quiet music, “I’d hate to take up more of your day, but I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie.”

She smiled at the casual tone he used, as if he didn’t care how she answered. But the way the muscles in his hand tensed as he waited, she knew he wanted nothing more than for this date to never end. She replied, “I’d love to.”

He exhaled quietly and she knew she wasn’t meant to hear it. She smiled to herself as she drove to his house and parked against the curb. She followed him to the front door and he fumbled with the keys in his left hand. She took them gently from him and unlocked the door.

Music trickled down from the second floor and Marcus led her straight to the front tv room. She sat down on the couch in front of the window and watched him draw both sets of French doors closed, effectively shutting them off from the rest of the house. She smiled at him as he walked to the couch and closed the curtains behind it before sitting next to her.

He let her pick and she settled on one of her favorites, _The Princess Bride_ , surprised when he said he actually liked the movie — apparently it was one of Octavia’s favorites though she would never admit it. They settled against each other as it started, Abby leaning against his side, Marcus’ arm wrapped around her shoulders.

The movie was halfway over when one of the doors opened and Bellamy walked in. Marcus frowned and said, “A closed door usually means ‘keep out.’ What do you think two sets of closed doors means, Bell?”

Abby blushed but Bellamy didn’t let his father’s comment bother him. He held Abby’s phone in her hand and she perked up against Marcus as Bellamy said, “This was ringing out of control. Someone called Langston really needs to talk to you.”

“You answered her phone?” Marcus groaned, letting his head fall against the back of the couch as he pulled his arm away from Abby to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Abby held out her hand for the phone and paused the movie as she raised it to her ear. Marcus told Bellamy to shut the door behind him as Abby asked, “What’s going on, Calvin?”

 _“I just got word that there’s a kidney for your patient, Ontari Eisold,”_ the transplant surgeon said. _“I’ve already contacted her and she’s on her way to the hospital.”_

Abby sighed and replied, “I’ll be right there.”

 _“I’m sorry to interrupt your Mother’s Day, Abby,”_ Langston said and she could tell he was truly apologetic. _“I’ll see you soon.”_

Abby hung up and looked at Marcus. He was frowning as he met her eyes. “You have to go?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. I have a transplant to oversee. The patient’s only twenty-four.”

“Go.”

Abby leaned over and kissed him, it was gentle at first but Marcus’ arm wrapped around her and pulled her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running a hand through his hair as she slipped her tongue into his mouth. He met it with his and she felt lightheaded as the kiss intensified. Marcus held her flush against him, his hand high on her back.

She was the one to pull away and rested her forehead against his. She whispered, “I’ll call you, okay?”

He nodded, capturing her lips once more in a quick kiss. Abby didn’t want to leave, so content in the moment, lost to the feeling of his body against hers. But, she forced herself to her feet after another kiss and headed to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize again for the delay in updating. Hopefully this is the last long break between chapters because I've accepted a position at a school in Korea, so that stress is over. 
> 
> As usual, reviews are always welcomed and appreciated! :)
> 
> -Lauren


	8. Reassurance

The beeping that had lulled her so easily to sleep in the early hours of the morning woke her shortly after nine o’clock. It had been steady when she fell asleep in the chair by the patient’s bed, but the rhythm was erratic now. Abby jumped out of the chair and was at Ontari’s side in a second.

The girl’s eyes were wide open, pupils dilated to the max. She was breathing rapidly and Abby leaned over her, gripping her hand tightly in her own. She said, “Ontari? It’s okay, sweetheart. Your surgery went great, just relax. Can you do that for me?”

She watched the fear slowly leave the girl’s eyes, listened to her breathing return to normal. Abby squeezed her hand before releasing it. Ontari reached out for it and Abby smiled. She pulled her chair closer and sat down, taking Ontari’s hand again.

“How are you feeling?” Abby asked.

Ontari shrugged. “It hurts a little.”

She smiled and nodded. “Do you want me to call your mom or brother?”

Ontari shook her head quickly. “Not yet.”

Abby shot a look at her and the girl lowered her head in shame. The doctor whispered, “You need someone here. I know you don’t exactly get along with them, but—”

“I’ll call them when I’m ready,” Ontari interrupted, unable to look at Abby.

She sighed and let the subject drop. She knew that Nia Eisold was a hard woman to please and was estranged from both her son and her daughter. She had met her once and instantly knew that they wouldn’t get along well. Roan, on the other hand, tried with his sister, but Ontari thought he was too much like their mother though Abby didn’t see it. He was a bit abrasive, but she thought he could be likable if he tried.

Ontari was leaning back with her eyes closed and Abby took that as her cue to leave. She squeezed the girl’s hand again before she rose from her seat and walked out the door. She checked her watch and started when she saw it was 9:20. She hurried to her office and grabbed her notes before heading to the meeting room.

Half of the seats were full, but Callie wasn’t there yet so Abby didn’t really know where to sit. Lovejoy waved her over and she smiled, walking farther into the room and sitting next to him at the table. He slid a file toward her and she noticed _Kane, Vera_ on the labeling.

“How was Vera’s appointment?” Abby asked as she flipped open the folder. “It was Friday, right?”

Lovejoy opened his mouth to reply but was drowned out by the heads of pediatrics and nursing who had just arrived, caught up in a heated argument about a patient. Their faces were pink, it seemed like they had been at it for a while.

“It won’t clear up!” Rhonda Peters nearly shouted as she walked in with an irritated Dharmik Thorpe. “How would you like it if you couldn’t see out of your eye, Thorpe?”

He just shook his head at the nurse. “It’ll clear up—”

“Reese is only nine, you should be taking this more seriously!” Peters yelled.

“You don’t think I am, how can you—”

“Peters, Thorpe, that’s enough!” Dante Wallace said, standing in the doorway. He glared at the two as he said, “I can hear you well down the hallway. Take your seats, now.”

Thorpe scowled as he dropped into the chair next to Lovejoy, his eyes on Rhonda as she sat farther down the table. Lovejoy glanced at Thorpe warily before looking to Abby and making a face. He said, “ _Anyway_ , the appointment went great. We made a new food plan, hopefully it will resolve her issue. If not, send her back to me and we’ll figure something else out.”

“Thank you, Adam,” Abby said with a smile as she glanced over the plan he had made for Vera. It seemed pretty straightforward, nothing too complicated for her to manage on her own. She wondered if Bellamy and Octavia would be willing to help her out if need be, dropping by after training and school or work. She thought so, given the affection the kids seemed to have toward their sort-of-grandmother.

“Abby?” She blinked and looked up to find that Lorelei Tsing had taken the seat on her other side.

“Sorry, were you saying something?” She asked, flushing with embarrassment. She had been getting lost in her mind more and more whenever she thought of the Kanes and Blakes.

Lorelei smiled and said, “It’s fine.” She held out a file for Abby who accepted it. “These are the test results for that patient of yours.” Abby read over the file as Lorelei corresponded the results aloud, “They’re both O neg, so they’re fine there. He has a 4 antigen match; his antibodies are normal; there were no problems with the crossmatch. It would say they’re good to go for the transplant.”

Abby nodded, staring at the antigen match. She would have preferred it to be higher, but 4 was good enough. She said, shutting the folder, “I agree. They should be fine. Thank you, Lorelei.”

Abby settled in as Callie entered the room to start the meeting. It took a few hours and they hashed out all of the details for the gala that would take place on the third of June. Callie ended the meeting after Chief Wallace gave them the okay on their plans.

The others filed out of the room and Abby gathered her notes, hoping to make a quick exit. She rose from her seat and started toward the door but Cage Wallace blocked her path. He looked at her steadily and said, “How about you come with me to this thing?”

“I already have a date in mind, but thank you anyway, Cage.” Abby said, trying her hardest not to roll her eyes.

His eyebrow rose and he asked bluntly, “Do you? And here I thought you owed me a favor.”

She crossed her arms and held his gaze. “I’m not going out with you for moving a guy to the front of the x-ray line. That’s a bit much for you barely doing anything.”

“It was a _huge_ _imposition_ , Abby,” Cage said slowly, his eyes narrowing. “You owe—”

“Then ask a medical favor of me, Wallace,” Abby said bluntly. “I’m doing nothing personal for you, I don’t care who your father is.”

Cage opened his mouth to retort, but Callie called loudly from the doorway, “Come on, Abby, I want to hear all about your boyfriend over lunch.”

Abby let herself smile as she walked away from Cage, enjoying the darkness that passed over his face. Callie took her arm and led her out of the room. Abby whispered, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I know, but I wanted to see the look on Cage’s face when he realized that he had no chance with you.”

Abby smiled and let Callie lead her to the cafeteria.

 

* * *

 

Abby sat in her office after seeing several patients she had to give bad news to. It was just after seven o’clock and she was finishing up her notes when her phone buzzed on her desk. She turned from the computer and picked it up, expecting _Clarke_ to be written on the screen. Instead, it said _Marcus Kane_ and she smiled.

She pressed the green button and said, “Hi, Marcus.”

 _“Hey, Abby,”_ he said, a smile in his voice. _“How was your day?”_

“I can take you out to dinner and tell you all about it,” she said. “I have some news for you anyway.”

He laughed lightly and replied, _“I guess I’m free. What’s the news?”_

“You’ll have to wait on that,” she said, smiling. “How about I pick you up at eight?”

 _“That sounds good,”_ he replied. _“But there was a reason for me to call.”_ She waited for him to continue and he said, _“Both of the kids are busy and my mom’s appointment ends in ten minutes. Are you still at the hospital?”_

Abby smiled and said, “I’ll take her home.”

He let out a sigh of relief and said, _“I owe you, Abby.”_

“Just buy dessert and we’ll call it even,” she said, checking her watch. “I should go though, I have to finish up some notes.”

_“I’ll see you in an hour.”_

 

Vera was being unhooked when Abby entered the room. She stared at the doctor as she walked toward her, purse swinging at her side. Vera’s eyebrow rose and she commented, “I didn’t expect to see you, dear.”

“I’m here to give you a ride home,” she said, sitting in the chair next to Vera’s as the nurse finished unhooking the tube from her fistula.

“Where’s Octavia?”

Abby shrugged. “Marcus said both of the kids were busy.”

A knowing smile crossed Vera’s face as the nurse left and she stood from her seat. “Ah, Marcus, of course.” She grabbed her purse and walked toward the door. Abby followed her out before leading the way to her car outside. They were nearing the doors when Vera said, “Bellamy tells me that you and my son have been spending some time together.”

Abby hadn’t expected Bellamy to be the gossip, but she knew that Vera would have been told by one of the kids by now. She nodded and said, “We have.”

Vera smiled as they exited the hospital and she sat down on the bench. Abby continued toward the car and once seated inside, she released a slow, rattled breath. She wasn’t prepared to talk with Vera about her relationship with Marcus, or whatever it was that they had. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel before she took a deep breath and turned the car on.

Vera stood as she parked the car against the curb and got out. She walked around to open the door for Vera and helped her in with a hand on one arm. She shut the door and went around the car to reclaim her position in the driver’s seat. Abby pulled away from the curb and turned right out of the hospital parking lot onto Vancouver Avenue.

Vera was surprisingly silent the entire trip, but Abby awaited the inevitable as they turned onto SE Bidwell in Sellwood. Finally, she asked, “How is it going with Marcus?”

Abby stared out the windshield and cleared her throat before she answered, “Good, I think. We’re having dinner tonight.”

She pulled into the driveway of the two-story cottage and Vera looked at her, smiling. She said, “Just so you know, Marcus likes sushi.”

Abby said with a smile on her face, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Thank you for the ride, Abby,” Vera said as she ambled out of the car.

Abby’s hand went to her door handle and asked, “Do you need help to the door?”

Vera shook her head and said, “I’ll be fine, dear. You have a date to get to. Tell my son not to be a stranger, I miss having him around the house.”

Abby nodded and said, “I will.” Vera shut the door and started up the walk but Abby shoved open the door and called over the roof of the car, “Vera!” The older woman turned and Abby asked, “You’re okay with me dating Marcus, right?”

Vera’s smile nearly leapt off of her face as she looked at Abby with something deeper than fondness. “Of course, my dear. I couldn’t be happier about it. Now go, don’t keep him waiting.”

Abby smiled and climbed back into the car, taking a deep breath before backing the car out of the driveway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One month later, we finally have an update. Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated! :)
> 
> -Lauren
> 
> P.S. Sorry this took so long, the ideas just weren't coming.


	9. A Match

The restaurant wasn’t as packed as she thought it would be, she had to remind herself that it was 8:30 on a Monday night. She had chosen a sushi restaurant near both of their homes on NE Albert and, much to her surprise, Marcus said it was one of his favorites. They were seated immediately in a quiet corner of the restaurant and Abby picked up a menu.

Marcus could tell that she had no idea what she was doing and when she glanced at him, he had a fond look on his face as he watched her brows crinkle in confusion over what she was looking at. He asked, “Sushi isn’t your thing, is it?”

“I haven’t had it in years,” she said, blushing slightly at having been caught. He smiled and looked down, she knew that he understood whose idea the location had been because it certainly wasn’t hers.

“We could always go somewhere else,” he suggested, though she could tell that he really wanted to stay.

She shook her head. “What would you recommend?”

“I normally get the California roll,” he said, not bothering to glance at the menu. “I think you’d like the spicy salmon roll.”

“You do now?” Abby said, eying him skeptically. He smiled and replied, “Yes. I would like to think that I’ve gotten to know you at least a little over the past week.”

Her gaze didn’t waver from his and it was almost a challenge for him to tell her exactly what he knew now. He had complained a week ago about not knowing anything about her when she knew his childhood secrets thanks to his mother. He smiled, but didn’t accept the challenge. “I believe you have some news for me?”

“Over dinner.”

He was quick to point out, “We’re at dinner, Abby.”

She shook her head. “I don’t see any food.”

He smiled and nodded. “You are right, there’s no food. We certainly can’t call this dinner despite the ambiance, waiters, and chefs around us.”

She rolled her eyes and asked, “How was your day?”

It turned out that Marcus had gone back to work. At least, he had met with his captain, David Miller. Miller asked him to take control of the juvenile outreach program — A.R.K. — while he was on limited duty. The captain thought it was a good fit due to the fact that Marcus was the founder of the program along with his old partner, Jack Scanlan, who primarily worked with runaways now.

The waiter came and Marcus ordered them each a bottle of Sapporo before placing the food order. The beer was brought almost immediately and Abby looked at the bottle with apprehension. He commented, appraising her over the lip of his bottle, “It’s not going to bite.”

“Well, that’s lucky, I’d hate to have a sore lip,” she said as she raised the bottle.

His eyes widened in surprise, but he recovered quickly and said, “We can’t have that. You look nice, by the way.”

She had called Clarke on her way back from Vera’s knowing that she was going to be late to Marcus’ as it was. Her daughter had picked out the outfit, settling on something less risqué than she had tried before, but the plunging neckline of the red dress was still doing its job by drawing Marcus’ gaze to the revealed skin whenever he thought she wasn’t looking. She knew he wasn’t staring at the wedding ring necklace either. 

“Thank you, so do you,” Abby said, her eyes raking over him. He wore gray pants and a black dress shirt without a tie, the first few buttons undone to reveal a light expanse of chest hair. She tried not to look, knowing it was ridiculous to stare when she had already seen him shirtless twice. But she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him, feeling something stirring within her that she hadn’t felt since Jake died.

 

They talked throughout dinner about their kids: Clarke and her artwork, Bellamy and his training, Octavia and her horse. Abby was surprised that he had gotten Octavia a horse, but he said that it was through her work at the ranch. Titus Woods was an old friend and had given the beast to her for all of the hard work she did for him.

“Why ‘Helios?’” She asked as she slipped the cash into the check billfold.

He shrugged as he stood to leave. “Both Bellamy and Octavia are obsessed with Greek mythology, I think their mother read it to them when she wasn’t on a bender.”

She nodded and didn’t press the subject further as they walked out of the restaurant. Marcus took her hand as they started down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of his house. It was only twenty minutes to the restaurant and Abby never knew about parking, so she preferred to walk when she could. Besides, they both had 3 beers and shouldn’t be driving.

She noticed that he was very talkative when he was inebriated, even as slight as it was at the moment. When he started on his mother, she remembered the whole reason for the date. She had been so engrossed in what he was saying at dinner that she had completely forgotten the news she was supposed to deliver.

Abby squeezed his hand when there was a break in the conversation and he looked at her. She smiled and said, “Did you want to know that news?”

The realization dawned on him; he had completely forgotten about it too. “Please.”

She ran her thumb over the back of his hand and said, “The results of your test came back today. You’re a match, Marcus.”

He stopped abruptly, pulling her to a standstill with him. She watched a slow smile spread across his face and their eyes met. He asked, “I am?”

She nodded. His hand curled around her waist, pulling her close to him. She looked up at him, seeing a mixture of relief and gratitude in his eyes, but she couldn’t put a name to the third emotion. He smiled at her before his lips descended on hers. His hand slid up her back and along her neck — she shivered against him at the sensation — until he was cradling her jaw. She slid her arms around his neck, crossing her wrists behind him. She smiled into the kiss as he started to deepen it, pulling her even closer to him.

“How’d an asshole like you get a girlfriend like that?” A voice called from behind them. Marcus broke from Abby and turned around. A teenage boy was in the road, rolling a skateboard under his right foot. Marcus’ eyes darkened as they met the boy’s.

Abby was forced to release his hand as he took a few steps toward the boy but thought better of it. The boy smirked and asked, “How’s that shoulder holding up, Kane? It’s a shame someone got the better of you.”

“How’s your parole going, Mr. Murphy?” Marcus asked, glaring at the boy.

Murphy just shrugged nonchalantly.

“You do understand that your parole has a curfew?” He asked, glancing down at his watch. It was 10:05 p.m. “You’re five minutes past.”

“Who cares, Kane?” Murphy asked. “Just leave me alone.”

Marcus sighed and said, “Mr. Murphy, we both know that you need—”

The word ‘help’ died on his lips as Murphy spat, “Don’t you dare tell me what I need. I would be fine if you hadn’t arrested me.”

“You were setting a fire, John!” Marcus yelled, his hand flying up in rage. “You expect me to just _let that_ _slide?”_

Murphy rolled his eyes and stepped onto his skateboard. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Marcus’ brows lowered in confusion and he was about to ask a question, but Murphy shoved his foot against the ground and pushed the skateboard away, taking himself with it. Marcus’ eyes followed the boy as he disappeared into the night.

Abby watched him for a moment before she took a step toward him and placed her hand gently on his arm. He startled and turned to her. He was frowning as he asked, “Would you mind if we took a detour? I want to check on something at the station, it’s not far.”

She said, “That’s fine, the rest of my night is still free, believe it or not.”

He smiled at her and took her hand again, leading the way.

 

* * *

 

The North Precinct of the Portland Police Bureau was surprisingly quiet when they arrived. He led her back to his desk in the Youth Services Division. It was pristine, with nothing on it but his computer, a jar of pens, a photo of the Blakes, and his trays of case files. He motioned to the chair next to the desk and Abby sat down, glancing around the room.

They were the only people there and she wondered where the normal officers were. Marcus was rifling through the case files on his desk and she sat there, watching him. His frustration grew as he couldn’t find what he was looking for, muttering _dammit_ every other file that wasn’t the right one.

The door opened ten minutes after they arrived and a dark-skinned woman walked in, her eyes finding Marcus at his desk immediately. She was dressed in plain clothes, so Abby figured she was a detective too and, given what Marcus had told her, she assumed the woman was Indra Rowan.

“I heard you were spotted in the building,” she called as she crossed the room toward them.

Marcus glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you the same question,” she replied, coming to a stop next to his desk. She crossed her arms and looked at him sternly. “You know you shouldn’t be in the building while you’re on medical leave and you brought a civilian, too.”

He gave her his best smile and glanced at Abby before he replied, “I know you are capable of letting it slide, just for me. Right, Indra?”

She glared at him for a few seconds before her cold facade died and she smiled at him. “Fine, just for you, Kane.” She leaned against the corner of his desk and asked, “What are you doing here? And why did you bring your date?”

“I’m looking for the case file on John Murphy, we ran into him and something he said bugged me.” He replied, turning his attention back to the stack of folders. Indra walked around to her desk — which was pushed against the front of his, facing it — and grabbed a folder from the surface. She held it out for him and his eyes narrowed at her. “Are you stealing my arrest reports?”

She shrugged. “You weren’t here; as your partner, I needed to finish it.”

“Thanks,” he said, accepting and opening the folder.

Indra turned her attention to Abby who had been sitting quietly during the exchange, watching their dynamic with interest. The detective asked, “So you’re really dating this guy?”

She grinned at Indra and replied, “Well, I saw him shirtless and it was all over for me.”

Marcus looked at her, a blush creeping up his neck, and Indra laughed. She said, “I’ve seen better.”

Marcus glowered as he turned his attention back to the file. Abby smiled at his annoyance, her eyes finding Indra’s as the woman asked, “Really, what is it about him that makes someone like you want to date him? I, personally, think he’s too much of a softie to be with. I like my men tougher.”

_“Indra,”_ Marcus warned, not bothering to look up.

Abby smiled and said, “I think what did it for me was seeing him almost pass out from a simple blood draw.”

“Marcus doesn’t like needles,” Indra affirmed with a nod.

He muttered, “I should have never introduced you two.”

“You didn’t,” Indra pointed out. “But I know she’s Abby and she knows I’m Indra. You’re just as much of a gossip as your mother, Kane.”

“I am not,” he said defensively, looking at her incredulously.

Indra said, walking toward her desk, “Sure you’re not.”

Abby smiled as the two started working as if it was just another day on the job. Indra had come to the precinct to catch up on her reports, apparently they needed to submit their crime numbers and she was behind. Their captain had told her it was either come in late or come in early.

“We should arrest that Murphy kid solely because he took away my workout buddy,” Indra said, not looking away from her computer screen.

“Is Bellamy not good enough?” Marcus asked, jotting down a few notes from the report.

“He’s better, he should be training with my brother,” she said with a smile. “But I like the challenge of trying to whip you into shape.”

“I’m in shape,” he retorted, glaring at her from across the desks.

“Sure you are,” Indra smirked. Abby smiled to herself, knowing that he was, in fact, in good shape. “You could be better.”

“Not all of us can be you, Indra,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“When can he start working out again, Doctor?” Indra asked, glancing at her over the computer.

“About 12 weeks post-incident; he needs to have good strength back in his shoulder before he can start anything serious.” She replied, her eyes on Marcus as the information settled in. He already knew it, but hearing it said aloud was different than reading it. He seemed to deflate with the knowledge that he had another two plus months before he was even close to being healed.

“Another ten weeks of having someone who can actually keep up with me?” She asked, her eyes wide in mock horror.

“Bellamy insists that you kick his ass every workout,” Marcus said, shutting the file with a snap. He tossed it onto her desk as he added, “He doesn’t understand how I manage them.”

“He’s humoring you, Kane,” Indra said dryly. “He’s probably wondering how you haven’t had a heart attack yet.”

He just shook his head and rose to his feet. “Whatever you say. Have fun with your reports.”

She ignored him and as Marcus led Abby to the door, she said, “It was nice meeting you, Indra.”

“You too, keep that one healthy, I fear he needs the assistance.”

Marcus scowled as he pushed open the door. Abby smiled and said, “I like her.”

“Someone should,” he retorted, taking her hand as they walked down the hallway.

 

They were on his porch twenty minutes later, seated next to each other on the swing hanging in front of the tv room window. The night was still and Marcus had his arm around her, her head was on his shoulder. The swing was rocking gently, aided by his feet planted on the porch. Abby could feel herself growing sleepy and knew that she should leave.

Instead, she found herself wrapping her arms around his stomach and burrowing her head deeper against his shoulder. He ran his hand along her arm and said, “Are you tired?”

“I’m fine,” she said quietly, her eyes still closed.

He chuckled lightly and said, “You’re stubborn, do you know that?”

She nodded against his shoulder. “I’m well aware.”

He continued to stroke her arm as she rested against him. It was several minutes before either of them spoke. Abby whispered, “Would you want to go with me to the fundraising gala in a few weeks?”

There was surprise in his tone as he answered, “Of course. Black tie?”

She nodded against him. “When aren’t they?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never been to one, so I wouldn’t know. I’m just going off instinct.”

She smiled and leaned up, looking at him. “Your instinct is correct most of the time.” His eyebrow quirked up. She clarified, motioning to his injured shoulder, “You thought that was a dislocation.”

“No, I hoped it was a dislocation,” he responded. “I was being optimistic.”

“Sure,” she said, not believing him for a second. She yawned and muttered, her head sinking against his shoulder again, “I should really get going.”

“Now you listen to me. Stubborn, I told you.” He said, rolling his eyes. She pinched his side for his remark before pulling away at last. She leaned close, kissing away the smirk on his face. He smiled against her lips and murmured, “Delaying some more?”

Abby gave his hair an affectionate tug as she pulled away. “I would nev—”

She was interrupted by light footsteps on the porch and they both turned to find Octavia near the door, trying to sneak passed them. Marcus raised an eyebrow and asked, “Where have you been?”

“Out,” Octavia said with a shrug.

Abby could sense that she wasn’t supposed to be. She stood from the seat and touched Marcus’ arm. She said, “I’ll leave you to whatever this is. I’ll call you, okay?”

He nodded, his eyes on his daughter.

“Sneak around the back next time,” Abby whispered as she passed Octavia. The girl smirked but Marcus called, “I heard that. Don’t give her any ideas, Abby.”

“I would never! I think you’re having trouble hearing already, Marcus,” she called over her shoulder, smiling at his glare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated! :)
> 
> -Lauren


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